


between the shadow and the soul

by CameronPost (LexMurphy)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, More characters to be added later, Relationships will come later, more tags to be added later, rated mature for heavy material, relevant warnings will be given prior to the chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexMurphy/pseuds/CameronPost
Summary: A young orphan finds out she is a witch.  In this new world she finds wonders beyond imagination.  Will she find a family as well?





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thank you for clicking on this story! I have pages and pages of notes and plenty of ideas for this story extending from the first year at Hogwarts through to the war. My goal is to write quite a long story, but I currently have a very busy life. My wish to add many more characters to the story; however, I have not tagged them yet as they will not appear for a little while. Thank you for reading! I have little experience in creative writing and will happily take constructive criticism. I am already working on the next chapter, and I am excited for it. But updates will likely be sporadic. It will become more apparent as the story continues that some minor details (with the exception of an original character) have been changed, mostly dates.

The day was uncomfortably warm with the late-morning sun brightly shining and clothing clinging to sweat-damp skin. _Lucky to be a witch. _She thought as she subtly refreshed her cooling charm. A young mother struggled with her crying child as she crossed the street. Carefully she stepped over the fallen treat as she made her way towards her destination, orange ice cream melting into a puddle on the sidewalk behind her. Just ahead, behind black metal fencing, was the home she was seeking—large and Victorian, somewhat dilapidated with peeling paint and a missing shutter. She noted the random assortment of children’s toys strewn about the yard and the crude chalk drawings on the sidewalk leading to the porch. The stairs creaked as she approached the dark wooden door. She thought it odd, the lack of children outside, as she rang the doorbell; her unspoken question quickly answered as a small, blond-headed boy with missing front teeth opened the door and she was hit with a blast of cool air.  
__

____

“Jason! What have I told you about answering the door without an adult!” The chastisement came from a woman walking quickly towards them from an unseen part of the house. “Not to!” The boy, Jason, replied as he took off in the opposite direction. “So sorry about that ma’am,” she breathed, continuing to approach Minerva at that same quick pace. “How may I help you?”  


“Good morning, my name is Professor McGonagall. I am here for an appointment with Sara Young.”  


“Good morning, Professor! I’m Sara, and I must say it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Come right this way; we can use Jennifer’s office.”  


Sara appeared to be in her early thirties, Minerva thought, with a kind, round face, mousy brown hair and warm, dark eyes. As Sara led her through the home, she noticed more and more evidence of children—a few scattered toys, the sound of running feet and high-pitched voices, a glimpse of Jason and two other boys playing tag. “I’ll be in your office for a bit, Jen!” Sara raised her voice and called up a set of large stairs. “Alright!” A voice called back, and Sara directed her towards a darkened room near the staircase. “Make yourself at home,” she said as she flipped the switch to the overhead light. The room seemed small with the large wooden desk and file cabinets taking space. Minerva sat in the nearest of the two olive wingback chairs while Sara closed the door and sat in the worn leather chair behind the desk.  


“So,” Sara began, “Lyra has been accepted at a private boarding school in Scotland.”  


“Yes, Miss Black has been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." “Witchcraft?" Sara laughed, disbelief written on her face. “Yes, Ms. Young, witchcraft. I am a witch and the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. Magic is quite real.” Minerva said as she pulled her wand from her robes. Sara’s eyes widened as a grey tabby cat sat where, just seconds ago, the austere woman had been. “Magic,” she huffed leaning backwards in her seat, watching as the tabby disappeared and the woman returned once more. “And Lyra is a witch, too? Well, that certainly explains some things,” she muttered after the professor’s nod of assent. “Would you please tell me more about this school and about the, um, magical world?”  


“Of course, Ms. Young,” Minerva began. “In the United Kingdom, the Ministry for Magic is the governing body, and the Ministry has passed the Statute of Secrecy. The Statute of Secrecy ensures that the presence of magic and magical folk is not revealed to the non-magical world. As Miss Black’s caseworker, you are an exception to this law. Now, as you know, she will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As Deputy Headmistress, one of my duties is to meet with Muggleborn students prior to their first semester. ‘Muggleborn’ is a term used in the magical world to denote magical children born to and living in the nonmagical world. At Hogwarts, Miss Black will learn all she needs to be successful. The term begins on September first and—”  


“September first!” Sara interrupted, “that’s two days from now!” She blushed at the professor’s glare, feeling like a schoolgirl once again, “I apologize for interrupting, ma’am. Please continue.”  


“Apology accepted, Ms. Young. Now, I understand that this is short notice, but Muggleborns are traditionally notified on their eleventh birthday. The term ends in June, and Miss Black will be returned to your care for the summer. With your permission, I will take the child to the magical part of London today to obtain her school supplies. The school has a program for children who have little means, so there is no need to worry about payment.”  


“That’s a relief; unfortunately, our funding isn’t that great right now. And, that would be alright. It is not something we normally allow, but this is a special circumstance. We would need you to sign her out and sign her in when you bring her back. As Lyra is a foster child, I will be needing to check in on her periodically to ensure her wellbeing. And as the school will be responsible for her for a period of time, it is important for you to know that Lyra is special,” Sara said delicately. “Unfortunately, Lyra has not had the best foster care experience,” guilt showing in her voice and face. “She was abused in the past and has been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.” At the professor’s questioning look, Sara continued. “Post-traumatic stress disorder is a psychological disorder. I believe American psychologists coined the term after the war in Vietnam. For Lyra, this means that she has anxiety problems and nightmares; she has seen counselors for this and is now doing much better. She is a very resilient child, and she loves school. I am sure she will be very excited to hear the news.”  


“There are many with special needs at our school, and I have every confidence in our Mediwitch. She takes good care of our students. I would be happy to correspond with you and to arrange for you to come to the school and check on Miss Black. Now, may I meet the child?” Minerva asked.  


“Of course, right this way.” Sara said as she got up from her chair. Minerva followed the woman back to the staircase, and they began to make their way upstairs. “Lyra’s room is in the attic,” Sara explained. “We had problems previously with her waking the other children at night with her nightmares.”  


As they continued past the first floor, they found the staircase blocked by a group of four girls. “Excuse me girls, our guest and I need to use the staircase. Please take this to another area.” As the girls began to disperse, Minerva noticed an older girl hanging behind, staring at her. “Are you here to take the freak away?”  


“Sloane, you know better than to speak that way,” Sara intervened. “Now please go with the other girls.” The girl rolled her eyes and with a muttered “whatever,” she made her way down the hall. Sara began walking up the stairs once more. “We have eleven kids in this group home, ranging in age from 4 years to 15 years, and three staff members here twenty-four hours a day. Not everyone gets along all the time, but we do our best. Lyra’s room is just here.”  


The door opened to a small room with a single bed pushed up against the wall opposite the door. The closet was without a door, and Minerva could make out a few pairs of tops and pants and a winter coat. There was a single window, and on the sill sat a framed picture of two girls hugging. Beneath the window, there was a young girl sitting on the floor. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she held a book in her hands. She looked at Minerva and Sara with large, pale blue eyes from underneath dark, full eyebrows. She had a bit of a pointed nose and chin with thin, rosy lips. Her long hair was a dark brown, almost black and very straight.  


“Good morning and Happy Birthday, Lyra!” She received a quiet “thank you,” in response. “You have a guest today. This is Professor McGonagall; she’s here from the private school in Scotland we discussed earlier.”  


“Good morning, Miss Black. The school you have been accepted to is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are a witch, Lyra, as am I.” Minerva then took out her wand and transfigured the girl's book into a small rabbit. “And at school you will learn how to perform magic like this and more.” She allowed her to pet the small animal before undoing the transfiguration. The child continued to remain quiet, her blue eyes piercing.  


“Lyra, Professor McGonagall is going to take you into the magical world today to gather your school supplies. I expect you to mind her and not wander off.” Lyra nodded and stood up. She looked small for eleven, her clothes too large and her limbs thin. She went over to the closet and pulled from it a backpack. She put her book in and began packing clothes before Sara interrupted. “There’s no need to pack yet. You’ll be gone with Professor McGonagall for a just few hours, alright?” Lyra nodded and put her clothes away but kept the bag. “Come now, Miss Black. It’s time to go.” Minerva said heading back towards the ground floor.


	2. Diagon Alley

Lyra waved goodbye to Sara and followed Professor McGonagall out of the group home. The heat hit her like a wave, and she squinted her eyes at the brightness. She grasped the straps of her bag tighter and jogged a bit to catch up with the Professor's brisk pace. She was tall with pretty green eyes and dark brown, greying hair pulled back into a severe bun. Her clothes were funny, Lyra thought, and too warm for the day. She was already sweating just in a t-shirt and shorts. Lyra paused as she realized the Professor was leading her into an alley. The older woman noticed her hesitation and explained. “Normally I would take you by taxi, but I do have a schedule to keep. We will be traveling by something called apparition, and apparition must be performed in such a way as to not expose the magical world, hence the alleyway. It is not a comfortable way to travel, but we will arrive at our destination in a blink. Now, Miss Black, if you would please take my arm.” Lyra looked at her with caution and slowly placed her hand at the woman’s elbow. The Professor observed their surroundings for a moment before turning, and Lyra felt a pulling behind her navel, like she was being sucked through a tube. 

As her feet touched the ground again, her knees hit the pavement, and she started dry-heaving. “There, there child. You did well.” The Professor began to comfort her, but as she felt the woman’s hand on her back, she moved away and quickly stood up on shaky legs. “Our destination is just around the corner. It’s called the Leaky Cauldron.” Minerva smiled faintly as she heard a growling stomach, “And we will have lunch there as well before we get your school supplies.” 

The older witch guided her towards a dark, run-down looking pub. Inside it was lit by candle and was outfitted in stone and wood. There were hardly any patrons. Professor McGonagall motioned toward a wooden booth in the corner, and, without removing her backpack, Lyra sat on the side that allowed her to see the entrance. The pair occupied themselves by reading the menus placed on the table. After a few minutes a bald man with a hunchback approached them, and the Professor ordered her food. As the adults looked to Lyra, she pointed at the menu and asked for “water, please.” The waiter left, and Professor McGonagall handed her a letter. 

In fancy script the pages read: 

>   
>  HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY  
>  Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)  
>  Dear Miss. Black,  
>  We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1.  
>  Yours sincerely,  
>  Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
> 
> UNIFORM  
>  First-year students will require:  
>  1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
>  2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
>  3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
>  4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
>  Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags
> 
> COURSE BOOKS  
>  All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
>  _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade I) _by Miranda Goshawk__  
>  _A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot__  
>  _Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling__  
>  _A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch__  
>  _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore__  
>  _Magical Draughts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger__  
>  _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander__  
>  _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble__
> 
> OTHER EQUIPMENT  
>  1 wand  
>  1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
>  1 set glass or crystal phials  
>  1 telescope  
>  1 set brass scales  
>  Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad  
>  PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

As Lyra finished reading the letter, she was surprised to find their food already arrived. Reminded of her hunger, she began quickly eating her sandwich. After they had both finished, the Professor stood and began to make her way towards the back of the restaurant. “We will obtain your school supplies in Diagon Alley which is just through the back here.” Minerva escorted Lyra through a door into small alley that ended with a brick wall. She looked towards the witch with furrowed eyebrows and a question in her eyes. The Professor smiled and produced her wand; with it she tapped the brick wall in a pattern. A great rumbling noise started, and the brick wall opened onto a long street teeming with people and crowded with colorful buildings. 

Lyra observed in awe, but quickly grasped the Professor’s robes as she began to wade into the fray. She felt her anxiety increase with the noise and the colors and the bumping and grasped instead the Professor’s hand. She followed the older woman blindly into a building and quickly went to sit in a corner. When she got her breath back, Lyra looked up a noticed she was in a bookstore. With an excited smile she got to her feet and saw the Professor gathering a stack of books in her hands. As she approached, the witch smiled and said, “I have your required textbooks, but as a special birthday treat, you are allowed two extra books. Go ahead and take a look around, Miss Black. Might I suggest choosing _Hogwarts: A History_ ; it is a very informative read.” Lyra brightened at the possibilities and spent several minutes exploring the store while the Professor waited at the cash register. 

It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” Minerva asked the girl as she returned. Lyra smiled shyly and nodded. “Well, what did you choose?” The girl passed the two books over and Minerva glanced at the titles. “ _Hogwarts: A History_ and _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Good choices, Miss Black.” Lyra smiled again and looked to her shoes. The child was unusually quiet, Minerva thought, but endearing none the less. 

“Our next stop will be Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment. You need a trunk.” The Professor said matter-of-factly. Lyra grasped the woman’s hand once more as they ventured out into the crowd. The next store thankfully was not very far, and it was easier for Lyra to take in the atmosphere of Diagon Alley. There were more people in the crowd dressed like the Professor than there were like her. Lyra began to wonder about the other cultural differences between the magical and non-magical world but cut the thought off as they entered the next store. This one was filled with luggage, telescopes, and all manner of shiny things. As the Professor went to speak with the shopkeeper, Lyra took the chance to wander around. She lightly touched a silver device, making it slowly spin. She then walked to a telescope and peeked in only to see a very bright view of the sky. 

She stepped away, blinking a few times and headed towards the trunks and bags. She looked closely at a brown, leather-looking backpack. It looked soft and smooth, and the tag had odd things written on it like ‘expansion charm included,' ‘featherweight charm,’ and ‘premium dragon hide leather.’ With wide eyes she glanced up at the Professor who had approached her. “Dragons?” She asked in a small voice. “Yes, Miss Black. Dragons are real, but it is unlikely that you will ever have to worry about facing one. Now tell me, dear, what is your middle name? And would you prefer your trunk to be brown or black?” Lyra, still stuck on dragons, mumbled, “I don’t have one and black, please.” 

“Very well. Black and just the ‘L’ and ‘B’ Mr. Shepherd. Your trunk, thankfully, has a featherweight charm built in, so there is no need to worry about heaviness. There is plenty of room for all of your school supplies. When Mr. Shepherd is finished with the personalization, we will go ahead and pack your books as well as your telescope and scales.” Lyra nodded and walked to the till with her. 

In Madam Malkin’s Lyra was stood on a stool, wide eyes following the magical measuring tape whizzing all around her. The Professor moved into her line of sight, “you will have plain work robes and a winter cloak. You will also receive your school uniform once you are sorted.” At Lyra’s tilted head and furrowed eyebrows, she continued. “The sorting ceremony is one of the first things you will experience at Hogwarts. It will place you into one of our school’s four Houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. The names come from the four founders of our school. You are placed based on your personality and which house will serve your potential the greatest. You needn’t worry, Lyra.” She nodded and drew her attention back to the tape that was now measuring the bottom of her foot. 

After buying her cauldron and set of glass phials at the cauldron shop and the apothecary, the Professor led her towards Ollivander’s wand shop. The store was dimly lit, dusty, and, thankfully, free from other customers—she had grown tired of being around so many people. There were long thin boxes stacked all over; Professor McGonagall had to move some to the floor just so she would have a place to sit. The Professor hadn’t said anything since entering the store, and Lyra hadn’t seen a shopkeeper. As she slowly walked towards the front desk she heard a raspy voice. 

“Well hello there, young miss. And who might you be?” Lyra looked to Professor McGonagall before quietly stating her name. “Of course you are, dear. Now here, here. Beech and dragon heartstring, 10 inches.” An old man rounded a corner and handed her an open box. He had long white hair and silvery eyes. She gently picked the wand up and looked towards the man. “Well, give it a wave,” he instructed. As Lyra waved the wand, a portrait flew off the wall and crashed loudly onto the floor. She jumped and handed the wand back to the man. “Not quite right, that one,” he said, rummaging through the shelves. “Perhaps try…ah, pine and phoenix feather, twelve and one-quarter inches, rigid.” Lyra had just picked the new wand up when the man intervened and placed it back into the box. “Nope, nope, definitely not right.” Lyra glanced again at the Professor who nodded in reassurance. “Cedar and unicorn hair, try this one, my dear.” She waved it gently, and a glass vase shattered sending a dried up rose sailing to the ground. The man disappeared again as she gingerly placed the wand back on the counter. This time he returned with a smile on his face. He held the wand out to her without a word. It felt warm in her hand, and when she waved it bright blue sparks erupted like fireworks from the tip. “Willow and unicorn hair, 12 inches, pleasantly bendy. A fine wand indeed, Miss Black.” 

They were almost out of Diagon Alley when Lyra heard a noise and paused, perking her ears. She heard it once more and walked towards a small space between two of the buildings. Behind a wire bin she found a small grey kitten, its belly fat with worms. She picked him up and held him close to her chest looking to Professor McGonagall with pleading eyes. The woman sighed. “Well, students are allowed a cat. But that one will need some careful tending by the looks of it. We will stop _briefly_ at the Magical Menagerie for some medicine. Quickly now, Miss Black.” 

Apparition wasn’t as terrible the second time around, Lyra thought, as Professor McGonagall dropped her off at the group home. Sara greeted her with a smile on her way upstairs “How was your trip today, Lyra, good?” She nodded and smiled brightly in response continuing up the stairs to her room, her new kitten hidden in her bag. “Supper is soon, Lyra!” Sara called after her. 

After supper was finally over, Lyra excitedly raced up the stairs, pushing past the other children. She washed up quickly and retreated to her room, providing her new companion with a bit of leftovers and a dose of medicine. The trip to Diagon Alley had been exhausting, but she was too wired to go to sleep. A whole new world had opened up before her, full of possibilities. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update this time and made some minor fixes to the last chapter. The letter came directly from the first book, and the Leaky Cauldron and Ollivander's experience was heavily inspired by the movies. I had a bit of trouble with the coding on this one; the letter turned out acceptable, but I couldn't get the code to work for the book titles later in the chapter. It's third person, but I've tried to convey Minerva vs Lyra's thoughts. Hopefully that has come across. We will soon be encountering some plot which should make clear our timing within Harry's story. Unsure when next update will be. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Minor updates made to this chapter on 10/03--including fixing the code!


	3. September 1

Lyra stood on the curb leaning against her trunk while Sara chatted away in the background. Sara hadn’t been too happy with her yesterday after discovering her sneaking food to Max in the attic. Still, though, she had taken her shopping for a new pair of jeans, a couple jumpers, and a new pair of boots. Lyra wore her new clothes now, and she was _sweltering_ in the unusually warm weather. But Sara had assured her that it was much cooler in Scotland, and she’d likely be going from Summer to Autumn in just a few hours. She rocked up on her toes repeatedly and rubbed her lips against Max’s soft, soft fur. Being late made her anxious; she asked Sara for the time again.

The taxi finally arrived, and Lyra put her trunk in the boot of the car before the driver could. Her eagerness made Sara chuckle, and soon enough they were on their way. Occupying herself with Max and a new book, the taxi ride went by quickly. Before she knew it, Sara was leading her through King’s Cross station towards platforms 9 and 10. “You said the platform is nine and three-quarters? Lyra, surely that can’t be right?” Lyra handed her the ticket, the number written plainly. “Professor McGonagall said a house elf called Mimsy would meet me and take me to the train.”

As if speaking her into existence, a small, pale creature with large pointed ears and big, brown eyes suddenly appeared next to them. The pair startled and spared a look towards the familiar coat of arms embroidered on the house elf’s toga-like clothing. “Hello Ms. Young, Miss Black. Mimsy is here to take Miss Black to the train.” With a snap of her fingers, Lyra’s trunk was floating behind them. Sara glanced around at the other travelers, but magic, she assumed, prevented them from noticing. After a tight hug goodbye and a promise to visit soon, Sara let her go. “Good luck, sweetie,” she whispered as Lyra glanced back, Mimsy leading her by the hand through what appeared to be a solid wall.

Lyra’s gaze drifted over the brilliant scarlet train engine, the families gathered round, steam wafting above their heads, and came to rest on a wanted poster. It was posted to the brick wall just in front of her; the man in the picture was moving, screaming, pulling against his chains. Mimsy continued to lead her to the train as Lyra stared at the crazed man until the picture was out of sight. “Mimsy, who was that?”

Lyra’s trunk gently knocked the back of her head; she sent it a glare before returning her attention to her escort. The elf paused at a set of steps leading to the train carriage. “Sirius Black, Miss. Mister Black has escaped from Azkaban prison, but not to worry, Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain.” Disregarding Lyra’s raised eyebrow, she continued, “Miss Black should change into her school robes on the train; Mister Hagrid will collect the first-years at the station in Hogsmeade.” And with a small pop, Mimsy was gone.

Her trunk knocked her in the head once more, seeming to urge her towards the train. She sent it another glare, gently shifting Max in one hand before grabbing it out of the air and dragging it onto the train behind her. Mimsy had dropped her off near the front of the train, and most of the compartments here were empty. She avoided the noise coming from the rear carriages and put her trunk in the overhead bin of an empty compartment. She sat cross-legged in the window seat with a sleeping Max in her lap and her backpack on the seat next to her. From it she pulled _Hogwarts: A History_ and began reading once more.

She had just finished a chapter when the train started moving. No other kids had come into the compartment with her, and she tried to convince herself that she was okay with that. “Better off alone,” she whispered, steeling herself and scratching Max’s head. She put her book down and directed her attention to the window’s view as eventually the city melted away into rural countryside.

She was unsure how much time had passed when an old woman walked by pushing a trolley full of sweets and calling out to students. Lyra peeked her head out and saw kids handing over silver and bronze coins in exchange. Her stomach rumbled, but she hadn’t any non-magical money let alone whatever currency the magical world used. She didn’t dare sneak sweets, either, after the creepy old witch’s eyes flashed and met hers through a glass reflection. She returned to her seat and pulled from her bag a couple of yeast rolls she sneaked from supper last night.

The day turned grey and dreary, raindrops racing along the window, and the view no longer held her interest. Carefully reaching into her trunk, she grabbed _A History of Magic_ , hoping she might find information on recent historical events and one Sirius Black.

She was reading about the wizarding war waged by a Lord Voldemort whose ideology sounded uncomfortably similar to Adolf Hitler’s when she first noticed the window icing over. Sara had said that Scotland would be colder, but a change of this degree seemed a bit drastic. Something was off, and as the train suddenly screeched to a halt, her fear rose.

The lights had gone out, and her compartment was quite cold now, her breath creating little clouds. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, grasping her elbows tightly. Her little kitten jumped up onto her shoulder, sensing the tension. Time seemed to slow as Max hissed and hid in her hair; a large, dark thing floated past the door of her compartment. It looked like death, felt like death and fear and pain and blood, so much blood.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing she felt was Max’s scratchy tongue on her cheek and his slight weight on her shoulder. The feeling in her arms and legs came next, then the sounds and the rocking of the train. Finally, her vision refocused. She blinked a few times and moved her stiff arms and legs out of the position she had been holding. Wondering how much time she had lost, she picked her book up from where it had fallen to the floor. She nuzzled Max and placed a kiss on his head in thanks for bringing her back. After looking out the window and noticing that the sun had fully set, she pulled the plain robes out of her trunk and put it on over her clothes. She figured they would be arriving in Hogsmeade soon.

She was proven correct as she had only been reading for about fifteen minutes when the train began to slow. The lights of the Hogsmeade station came into view as she repacked her bag and gathered her things, Max maintaining his new post on her shoulder.

Children flooded out on to the platform, and a very large, very hairy man holding a lantern aloft called out for first-year students. She reluctantly left behind her trunk and backpack as the older students had instructed and began wading through the crowd to the growing group near the caboose. Once the train was checked and it was ensured that all students had vacated, Hagrid introduced himself and began to lead them away. Lyra stayed near the back of the group as they headed in the opposite direction of the older students.

They soon came upon a quiet dock. It was surrounded by weeping willows, and several small boats sat waiting. Cautiously she entered a boat occupied by three other students. Seemingly without guidance, the boats moved as one, pushing through the willows’ branches. She heard a series of gasps, hers among them, as the willows released their hold. The view was magnificent. An enormous old castle sat on a mountain overlooking the lake; warm yellow light emanating from the windows made it appearing inviting. The lake itself was breathtaking--its surface like glass, reflecting the castle and the night sky. Yes, the view was magnificent, but Lyra couldn’t swim. So, she maintained her white-knuckled grip on the edge of the boat and the bench seat.

She let out a sigh of relief when her feet touched solid ground again, Max purring in her ear in agreement. Hagrid led them up a long flight of stairs before finally entering the castle and coming to stop in front of Professor McGonagall. Lyra was relieved to see a familiar, if stern, face. She listened intently as the Professor explained the houses, the point system, and the sorting ceremony.

Clenching her fists nervously, she followed the rest of the first-years as Professor McGonagall led them into the Great Hall. It lived up to its name, she thought, taking in the enchanted ceiling, the floating candles, and the enormous glass window behind the professors. The other students were staring at them from a series of long tables, two sets on either side. The Professor stood near a stool on which sat an old tattered hat. A great rip near the brim opened and from it a voice began to sing. It sang about the founders and the school, the qualities held in esteem by each house—chivalry and nerve for Gryffindor, hard work and patience for Hufflepuff, creativity and wit for Ravenclaw, cunning and resourcefulness for Slytherin.

Lyra thought, with her last name at the beginning of the alphabet, that she would be one of the first sorted, but it appeared that Professor McGonagall was calling out names randomly. With the number of waiting first-years dwindling, Lyra was one of the last students to be called forward. Max had moved from her shoulder to the hood of her robes at some point and was now soundly sleeping. His weight and warmth at her back did little to relieve her discomfort, increased as it was with whispers of her surname breaking out amongst the tables.

After a friendly glance and small smile from Professor McGonagall, the hat was placed on her head, dipping low enough to cover her eyes. She jumped hearing the hat’s voice in her head. “Bravery, intelligence, strong self-preservation instincts, and a firm sense of justice, I can see it all here in your head. A tragic case indeed, little witch. You would do well in any house, but you are a Slytherin through and through, Miss Black.” The Professor pulled the hat off her head as ‘Slytherin’ rang through the hall. It was silent as she walked over to the table filled with green and silver clad students. The other sortings had received applause; she held her head high, trying not to let it bother her. She let out a breath as the next name was called, shifting the room’s attention.

After the final sorting and a start of term speech from the Headmaster, whoops of surprise and awe echoed as all the empty plates suddenly filled with food. Lyra smiled brightly at the large bowl of basil-sprinkled spaghetti just in front of her; her smile widened further as she noticed the filone next to it. She filled her plate with pasta and bread, sneaking a few slices into the inner pocket of her robes. _Old habits die hard when they serve you well_ , she thought wryly. She pulled Max from her hood, setting him on the bench and giving him some chicken from a nearby platter. Dessert continued to surprise and delight as she grabbed a newly appeared sfogliatella and the small dish of lemon gelato. That all her favorite foods had appeared was suspicious, but she would leave that thought for another day, too content for now.

Tired and full, she followed her prefect out of the hall and down a small staircase to the dungeons. After a long walk, they came to a stop at an unassuming stretch of stone wall. At the name Salazar, the wall opened into an archway like Diagon Alley. The common room had tall ceilings with ornate hanging lamps and crown molding, beautiful stone fireplaces, and large windows providing an underwater view of the Black Lake. Knowing that she would be sleeping underwater made her nervous, but she trusted a thousand years of magic to keep her safe. The water did provide a soothing ambiance and perhaps a possibility to see creatures in the future.

Her dormitory was circular with the five canopy beds situated around a central radiator. Between the beds were dark wooden nightstands and armoires with a skylight above each showing lake water. Attached to their dormitory was a bathroom with five shower stalls on one side and toilet stalls on the other, sinks and mirrors at the back. Her bag and trunk were at the foot of the bed opposite the door.

She placed Max on her pillow, away from the clothes laid out, and began putting her things away. She took her time, smiling at her nice, new uniform—three grey wool sweaters with the Slytherin emblem on the left chest, two black skirts, three white button-down shirts, a green and silver striped tie, thick black tights, and even a pair of black slip-on shoes. The striped scarf was soft and warm-looking, as were the emerald gloves. Her plain black robes had transformed without her realizing, a Slytherin emblem now present on the right chest, emerald green lining the inside of the hood. Grey cotton sheets covered her bed along with a thick emerald comforter and an extra grey blanket at the foot. The curtains surrounding the bed continued the emerald green theme and were thick and velvety-looking.

The other girls had already pulled their curtains closed, so she quietly took her toiletries to the bathroom. After finishing her nighttime routine, she crossed her fingers tightly and whispered, “Mimsy?” With a small pop, the house-elf appeared. “Thank you for coming and sorry to bother you, Mimsy. I was wondering if there was such a thing as a silencing charm. And if there is, would you mind placing one around my bed?”

“It is no bother, Miss Black. Mimsy lives to serve Hogwarts and its people. Slytherin beds are already equipped with a silencing spell; you need only close the curtains to activate it.”

“Thank you, Mimsy. Good night.” Letting out a sigh of relief, Lyra barely noticed a smiling Mimsy disappearing once more, grateful though she was for her help and for the silencing spell. She was exhausted. And with the incident on the train and the crossing of the lake, she knew there would be nightmares instead of dreams tonight. She reentered the dorm quietly and pulled the curtains closed around her bed. Thankful that she read ahead, she held her wand and whispered a spell hoping that it would work and act as an alarm the next morning. She settled into her new bed, waiting for it to warm with her body heat. With a whispered “good night” to a purring Max still curled on the pillow, she drifted off to sleep in her new home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The updates are coming out quicker than I originally anticipated. I have a light week this week, and excitement makes the writing come more easily. I was surprised to find how creepy the trolley witch was after researching her, so I included a bit of that in this chapter. So, Lyra is a Slytherin. Were you guys surprised? What house did you think she would be in? Lyra is a Muggleborn, and while it is rare for a Muggleborn to be sorted into Slytherin, it has happened before. It is very likely that she will face opposition from within her own house due to her blood status. And, we're in 1993, so we know a bit of the plot there. The common room and dormitory inspiration comes from the second movie and the mobile game. Thank you for reading, and a special thank you to my first subscriber! :) Next chapter will likely be this week.


	4. Rumours and Research

Screaming herself awake was never a pleasant way to start the morning, Lyra thought, sitting up and catching her breath. Judging by the lack of yelled complaints, the silencing spell worked. Max mewed at her, sitting on her pillow staring with yellow-green eyes; she scratched him behind the ears and under the chin in apology. Peeking out from the curtains, she noticed a faint light coming from the lake above. Giving up on more sleep she pulled the book from her nightstand and closed the curtains once more. The gentle light was too little to read by, so she looked to her wand, handle sticking out from beneath her pillow. 

It was simple and beautiful with gleaming pale wood and a few scattered amber diamonds; the unevenness of the wood at one end created a perfect handle, tapering to a smooth white point at the other. She grasped it, felt the warmth, and whispered “ _lumos_.” Pride welled within her at the bluish light emanating from the tip of her wand. “I did it, Max,” she grinned as he pawed at the light. With her newly formed reading-light as a guide, she flipped through _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ looking for something that she could use to protect her belongings. 

Her wand buzzed in her hand over an hour later. Happy that the alarm she set last night worked, she grabbed her things and headed towards the showers. It was early still, the curtains closed around her dormmates’ beds. In the group home, hot water was limited, and they all had to bathe at strategic times. Now though, in a school full of hundreds of people, the hot water must last forever! And she could shower in the morning as she preferred. 

Her dormmates were slowly waking and dragging their feet to the restroom as she dried her hair with a towel. Her new uniform was probably the nicest clothing she had ever owned, she thought, admiring herself in the wardrobe’s mirror. She fumbled with her tie for a few moments before giving up with a huff and throwing it into her open trunk. She knelt and pushed the tie off the framed photo, staring at it for a moment before shaking her head and closing the lid. 

Max was on her shoulder once more, playing with a strand of her hair as she left the common room. She counted the torches along the wall as she walked, hoping it would help to find her way back later. She found the Great Hall with ease, thankful that she wasn’t directionally challenged. It was nowhere near as full as it was last night, but plenty of early-birds were there, groggily eating their morning meal. 

She sat in the same seat as before, near the teachers’ table. Filling her plate with eggs, hash browns, and toast, she tried to ignore the unsubtle whispering coming from her housemates. “I heard Black escaped Azkaban to kill Harry Potter and to find the Dark Lord,” a dark-skinned boy whispered. “I heard that _she’s_ Sirius Black’s bastard half-blood daughter. And he’s escaped from prison for _her_ ” a girl with dark hair and a pug nose said. A scoff came from a pale, grey-eyed boy with white-blond hair. “Well _I_ heard that she’s just a filthy little Mudblood who happens to share a surname with the Great and Noble House of Black,” he sneered. Lyra raised an eyebrow at the term. She didn't know the definition, but she knew by the tone that it was meant to hurt. 

Tensing, she felt a presence behind her. “Mister Malfoy,” the voice droned, “use of such derogatory slurs is frowned upon, as you well know. Five points from Slytherin. And, Miss Black, points will be taken for an incomplete uniform starting tomorrow. I suggest you remedy whatever _issue_ you have with your tie by then.” Professor Snape tossed a piece of parchment onto her fruit bowl and strode away. “Ridiculous,” Draco said, disgust in his voice; he glared at Lyra before turning away and talking with his friends. 

Opening the folded parchment, Lyra found her schedule. She had an hour of Transfiguration first thing Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, followed by an hour of Herbology, and after lunch was Defense Against the Dark Arts. On Tuesdays and Thursdays was an hour and a half of Charms, followed by Potions with History of Magic after lunch. Wednesday evenings she had flying lessons, and Thursday night was Astronomy class. There was plenty of time for her to study between classes, and on Tuesdays she would be done by 14:30.

She finished breakfast quickly before heading back to her dormitory. She gave Max a dose of medicine with an eyedropper and grabbed her stupid tie before darting out again intent on finding the library.

An unsuccessful attempt found her outside. Wishing she had a map, she sighed and looked over the landscape. The dementors could be seen floating in the distance, guarding the entrances as the Headmaster had said last night. Shuddering and turning away from them, she looked towards the lake. Rolling her eyes, she saw another dementor flying above the forest, slowly descending in circles. This dementor had legs, and a mane and tail, and looked remarkably like a winged horse.

Feeling silly, she noticed a pair of older students clad in yellow and black passing her by, “Excuse me, do you know what that is?” She asked, pointing towards the creature in question. “The forest?” The girl said, giving her a strange look. “No, the horse, it’s flying.” Lyra replied. “There’s nothing there,” the boy said pulling the girl away and whispering to her. Lyra lowered her arm and glanced at the creature once more before turning back and heading inside. More determined than ever to find the library, she asked one of the sentient portraits for directions. 

The library was warm and inviting, larger than any she had seen before. The librarian, Madam Pince, was bird-like and strict but directed her to the proper sections. She carried her stack of books, Max perched on top, to a quiet, cozy corner of the library. Opening the first book, she began to read about magical creatures. Locating the passage about dementors it read: 

> A Dementor is a wraith-like Dark creature that feeds on human happiness, causing the victim to feel despair and relive their worst memories. Dementors also possess the ability to consume a person’s soul—colloquially called the Dementor’s Kiss—leaving the victim in a vegetative state. Humanoid in shape, dementors are approximately 3 metres and draped in tattered black cloth. Their skin is described as grey and decayed-looking, their fingers long and skeletal. Dementors are blind creatures with a gaping hole where one would expect a mouth. These beings seem to exude cold, and large groups of them are known to create fog and unseasonably cool weather. It is unknown how Dementors are created, but it has been theorized that the creatures generate from death and decay. Dementors hold no true loyalty, and the ability to kill a Dementor has never been demonstrated. A common defense against the creature is the Patronus Charm (incantation _Expecto Patronum_ ). The Patronus Charm summons a magical manifestation of happiness, and when performed by an experienced caster, the Patronus may take the form of an animal. Chocolate is the preferred antidote for mild exposure to a Dementor. Currently, the British Ministry of Magic employs Dementors as prison guards for the unplottable island of Azkaban. 

Lyra considered what she read; remembering how the Dementor made her feel on the train, she added the Patronus Charm to her mental list of things to research. Was it a just sentence for the prisoners of Azkaban to be submitted to such torture? Or was it cruel and unusual punishment? Those people had done terrible things to end up there, but the justice system, she knew, was not without fault. Tabling the ethics for now, she continued flipping through the book, trying to find the creature she had seen. After being distracted by the illustration and information of the Kelpie, she found a promising entry. 

> A Thestral is a unique breed of winged horse. These special creatures can only be seen those who have witnessed death. With a skeletal body, bat-like wings, white, pupil-less eyes, and fangs, most consider these creatures disturbing and grim. What little flesh the Thestral has is covered in a glossy black coat. Their manes and tails consist of long silky hair, and while Thestral hair is rarely used, it may function as a wand core. Like their nonmagical cousins, Thestrals are social creatures living in herds. These carnivores spend their lives in forests and other dark areas. Those who work closely with Thestrals describe them as clever and loyal to friendly humans. The Thestral can be used as a form of transportation and is known to fly at high speeds. 

So, she could see the thestral because of Lily. She’d rather not dwell on that fact, but she felt connected to these creatures in some odd way and wondered if there was a herd in the nearby forest. Curiosity satisfied for now, she closed the tome and replaced it with the book on wizarding families. Turning to the index, she quickly found the right page.

> The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is one of the oldest and wealthiest wizarding families in Britain. The family’s motto _Toujours Pur_ (Always Pure), reflects their status as a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Able to traces its origin to the Middle Ages, this family is full of notable witches and wizards. The Black family has dwindled in numbers with only five members in the most recent generation—Sirius Black III, Regulus Black II, Bellatrix Lestrange née Black, Andromeda Tonks née Black, and Narcissa Malfoy née Black. It is possible we will see the end of this Great family as the only living male, Sirius Black III, is currently imprisoned in Azkaban for murdering a wizard and twelve Muggles. A full and interactive family tree is located on page 374. 

Turning to the next page, she began to interact with the family tree. Touching her wand to a silhouette made a picture and brief snippet of information to appear on the page. She touched her wand to Sirius’s silhouette. She wasn’t sure why she expected his mugshot to appear, but this picture showed an entirely different man. The crazed eyes that she remembered were replaced with kind looking ones, and the young man smiled mischievously at the camera. He was a Gryffindor, and according to the book, he was disowned by his family for it. His younger brother, Regulus, looked similar to him, though quieter in a way. He was a skilled quidditch player and could have been a professional, but he died in 1979. 

She looked next to the trio of sisters and began with the eldest. Bellatrix’s silhouette was connected by a stalk to Rodolphus Lestrange, her husband. Bellatrix, it said, was a Slytherin born in 1951 who was currently serving time in Azkaban prison for the torture of two aurors. She had dark, wild curly hair and dark eyes. Lyra wondered briefly if the criminal cousins spent time together in prison before moving on to the silhouette beneath Bellatrix. There was no picture, only a name and date: Ophelia Lestrange, died 1979. Andromeda looked almost identical to her older sister, though her hair was a bit lighter and her eyes kinder. She too had been disowned by her family; this time for marrying a Muggleborn. Connected to her silhouette was her husband, Edward Tonks, and beneath them was another. Her daughter, Nymphadora, was born in 1972, so she must have graduated from Hogwarts only a few years ago. The final silhouette was Narcissa. Where her sisters were dark, Narcissa was light with pale blonde hair and cold blue eyes; born in 1960, she was the youngest by several years. She was not surprised to see Draco’s name below her and Lucius Malfoy, but she was surprised to see another. Aurelia Malfoy’s silhouette was much like Ophelia’s with no picture and only a death date, 1982. 

Fascinating as the Black Family was, they were ultimately unimportant to her. She pushed the book away. She was planning on researching more creatures, maybe those that lived in the Black Lake or in the forest, but then she saw her stupid tie. She put it around her neck and started fumbling with the two ends. She managed a knot, but it didn’t look right. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she undid it, Max playing with one end, not helpful in the slightest. 

“Would you like some help?” Lyra jumped in her seat, not realizing that someone had been watching. The question came from an older girl in Gryffindor colors; she had frizzy, curly brown hair pulled back into a bun with a pencil stuck through it. She could barely see the witch’s hazel eyes over the large stack of books she was carrying. With a thunk, the girl set her books down on Lyra’s table and sat in one of the chairs. “I’m Hermione Granger. Not many students spend the day before start of term studying. You’re Lyra, right?” Lyra nodded. “I remember your sorting; it’s not every day a Muggleborn gets sorted into Slytherin house. Don’t worry, I’m a Muggleborn, too. It’s all pretty overwhelming, isn’t it?” Lyra nodded again. 

The silence that followed was a little awkward, and the other witch decided to fill it. “What’s your kitten’s name?” Lyra replied with a small, “Max” as the other girl scratched the purring cat’s head. “I have a cat as well. His name is Crookshanks; he’s half Kneazle, so he’s quite independent.” After another extended pause, she continued “Would you like some help with your tie?” Lyra shrugged and followed the pattern in the wood grain with her finger. Glancing up, she watched as Hermione undid her scarlet and gold tie and straightened the two ends. “Fat side goes around and around, up the back and over, down through the loop, pull tight.” Without fuss, she pulled the large book from the top of her stack and began reading. 

Lyra glanced at the witch once more, and seeing that she was not paying her attention, she focused on her tie. Taking the two ends, she repeated what Hermione had done, ending up with a half-decent knot. Hermione smiled at her before resuming her studying. Lyra smiled and did the same, opening a book on charms and jinxes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Inspiration for Lyra's wand came from googling "willow wood" and discovering absolutely stunning diamond willow walking sticks. The information Lyra reads on dementors, thestrals, and the Black family is compiled and embellished from the pottermore and Harry Potter wikia sites. These first chapters have basically been covering a day in Lyra's life, but don't worry, the story will pick up soon. Thank you so much for reading! And thank for the subscriptions and kudos!!! Next chapter likely this weekend.


	5. Adjustment

Lyra found the herd. Trying to contain her excitement, she hid a wide smile behind her hands and jumped lightly in place. Between classes, studying, and exploring the forest, it had taken her nearly two months to find them. She estimated about twenty Thestrals gathered in a meadow, deeper in the forest than she normally ventured. Technically the forest was forbidden to students, but no one seemed to enforce the rule. It was easy to enter the forest unnoticed, especially on days like today where almost everyone was at the quidditch match. 

The herd knew she was there; she could tell by the perked ears and the restlessness. Mist hung around her feet, leaves and little sticks crunching as she cautiously stepped into the meadow. She sat at the base of a tree between two large roots and observed. The creatures were thin and bony with large leathery wings folded close to their backs. She could see their fangs, and their mouths almost looked like beaks. The white eyes and unusual appearance were chilling, but they seemed gentle. 

Lyra pulled her Transfiguration book and a notebook from her bag. Transfiguration had been her very first class at Hogwarts. The reveal had been amazing; the grey tabby cat on the desk transforming into Professor McGonagall in a blink. Lyra had decided then and there that she would figure out how to do that. She was disappointed to learn that their coursework was nowhere near as advanced. _Fundamentals are the building blocks of fun_ , she reminded herself with a sigh. 

The Thestrals were getting used to her, or they were ignoring her. Either way, the herd had moved further into the meadow and closer to her spot. What little sunlight filtered through the trees made their long, silky manes and tails shine. Some were eating what looked like birds or bats, but others appeared to be grazing. She had thought they were purely carnivorous from the book, but apparently, they were not. 

Autumn had come to Scotland, and the days were getting colder and shorter. It was beautiful here with the brisk air, crunchy leaves, and brightly colored trees. She grabbed a yellow leaf from the forest floor and took out her wand. She practiced hardening the leaf, then softening it, using _reparifarge_ in between. 

Adjusting to the magical world was tough. Writing with a quill was difficult and inefficient. She still used her ballpoint pen to take notes, but she was not allowed to use it for assignments. The other students and teachers used idioms that did not make sense to her and talked about famous people she had never heard of. And, the entire school was wild about quidditch. She went to the first match, but the game was hard to see and hard to follow. 

Making friends was tough, too. One of her dormmates, Astoria Greengrass, had an older sister in Slytherin, and they were unsubtle about their pureblood prejudice. They didn’t like her very much, and neither did Emmeline Brody, Astoria’s best friend. The other two girls in her dorm, Scarlett Carter and Melanie Thomas, weren’t friendly, but they weren’t unfriendly either. Her only human friend was Hermione. They spent time together studying, but they almost never interacted outside the library. She considered Mimsy a friend and Max, of course. Maybe the Thestrals could be, too. 

All her classes were engaging, even History of Magic with boring Professor Binns. Professor Snape was hard on her in Potions, but he seemed to be that way with everyone. Herbology was more interesting and fun than she expected, and though Professor Lupin was odd, she thoroughly enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts. Mornings after Astronomy class were sluggish, but the view of the stars without light-pollution was breathtaking. She worked the hardest at Transfiguration, wanting to become an animagus, but Charms was her favorite class. She was doing well in all of her subjects, but she did struggle with magical theory. Maybe it was because she was a Muggleborn; magic was magic, and that was enough theory for her. 

She was startled out of her thoughts by a small Thestral snuffling at her hair. She dropped the hardened leaf to the ground and slowly stood up, her back against the rough tree trunk. She raised her hand slowly, giving plenty of time for the Thestral to move away. It was odd, petting a Thestral. It was bony and hard with little flesh, but it was warm, with soft, smooth skin. She smiled with delight as the Thestral allowed her to continue stroking it and to run her hands through its mane. She was braiding little plaits in its silky hair when her wand buzzed in her pocket, reminding her of supper. 

She spent another twenty minutes with the herd before her rumbling stomach forced her back to the castle. Halloween was tomorrow, and the Great Hall was enchanting. Instead of candles, floating jack-o-lanterns lit the room. Orange and black streamers decorated the walls, and enchanted origami bats flew around the room. Dumbledore had even charmed a group of skeletons to tap dance. 

Her favorite foods hadn’t appeared for supper since that first night. The meals were always good, though, and there was a nice variety of options. She was halfway through her supper when her clever little cat trotted into the Great Hall and jumped up onto her shoulder. He was getting healthier and bigger every day. She gave him a bit of chicken and a smile before tensing at the sight of The Bat stepping down from the teachers’ table. 

She stopped eating, watching as Professor Snape came towards her. “Miss Black, you are to report to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office tomorrow at nine AM.” He tossed a piece of parchment at her, nearly landing it in her apple juice, before turning with a dramatic sweep of his robes and stalking away. _Great_ , she thought, grabbing the paper, _I’m being expelled_. She didn’t even know where the Headmaster’s office was. With a sigh, she finished her supper before carrying Max with her back to the common room.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stood in an empty corridor staring at a large stone gargoyle. It was almost nine o’clock, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Mimsy had said that this was the entrance to the Headmaster’s office, but nothing was happening. Remembering that paper Professor Snape threw at her, she looked to the statue and said, “Lemon drop.” The gargoyle jumped aside allowing a circular set of stairs to rise from the floor. Why Professor Snape couldn’t just _tell her_ what she needed to do, she didn’t know. Rolling her eyes, she made her way up the stone staircase.

The closer she got to the top, the more nervous she became. She made her steps quiet, listening, then gently knocked at the door. The Headmaster called her, and she hesitantly pushed it open. She could see a large circular room with the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape behind the desk. There were shiny trinkets and books on every flat surface; oil paintings of sleeping men and women covered the stone walls. A stunning phoenix was perched on a stand behind the Headmaster. She entered the room cautiously, unsure of what was happening and uncomfortable with all the eyes on her. Someone was sitting in the chair in front of the desk, their back to her, and they stood as Lyra walked in further. 

__

She ran over to Sara excitedly, as soon as she recognized her, and leapt into her waiting arms. “Oh, Lyra, you’ve grown! I’ve missed you so much.” Lyra responded in kind, then launched into telling her all about school. “Watch what I can do,” she said, pulling out her wand from her pocket and making the tip glow. She missed the surprise on her professors faces at this feat, as she was already moving on. “Watch, Sara, watch. _Wingardium leviosa_. Like Matilda!” She exclaimed, directing the floating book over Sara’s head. 

__

“That’s amazing, Lyra; I’m so proud of you. Now, listen up for a moment. I have a surprise for you.” Lyra returned the book to its place before looking at her with furrowed brows. Sara turned towards a door behind them and Lyra followed her gaze, watching as a woman walked out. The woman was tall with styled, short golden blonde hair. Her face was handsome, and she wore a grey Henley and faded flannel shirt. “Jen!” She yelled, running over and jumping into her arms. She babbled excitedly about school as she hung from Jen’s flexed arm. She climbed onto her back and covered Jen’s eyes with her hands, directing her around the room in a game they used to play at the group home. 

__

Sara looked on fondly at the pair, a blinded Jen stumbling around with a giggling Lyra on her back. She turned back to the Headmaster and other two professors, ready to discuss her charge. “Shall we begin?” 

__

“Miss Black seems to be adjusting to the magical world fairly well. Her teachers have said she is quiet but eager to learn, and she is exceeding expectations in all her classes. She appears to have quite the magical talent, given her display of wordless magic just a few moments ago. You’ve already met Professor McGonagall, our Transfiguration professor, and Professor Snape is her Potions professor and Head of House.” Headmaster Dumbledore spoke with a kind voice, his blue eyes twinkling from behind half-moon spectacles. He appeared to be very old and had a long white beard and hair. 

__

Professor Snape’s greasy dark hair hung limply around his face; his eyes were dark, and his large nose hooked. His voice was monotone as he continued where Dumbledore had left off. “As the Headmaster has said, Miss Black is doing well in her classes. She seems to be adjusting to her house. Despite her Muggleborn status, her peers have come to respect her due to the amount of points she has earned Slytherin.” 

__

“And has she any friends?” Sara sighed at the following silence and looked to Lyra and Jen. Jen was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Lyra in her lap creating a light show with colored sparks from her wand. She walked over to them and sat down. “Real talk time, Lyra,” she said, giving her a serious look. “How are you doing?” 

__

She shrugged and made a so-so motion with her free hand. Sara raised her eyebrows, and Lyra sighed. “I’m okay, I guess. School is amazing, and I love all my classes. But, I have been having nightmares,” she paused. “There are these things here, called Dementors; they’re guarding the school because there’s a mass murderer on the loose.” Sara shared a look with Jen, then sent glare at the professors, surprised by this information. “They feed on happiness and make people remember awful things. One of them came onto the train, and I dissociated,” she finished in a small voice, looking down at her hands. Jen held her tighter and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ve had a couple panic attacks, too, but Max helps me.” 

__

“Where are you at on the scale?” Sara asked. “Mmmm, 6,” she replied. “Thank you for being honest with me, Lyra. I’m going to talk with your teachers for a bit; stay here with Jen, okay?” Lyra nodded as Sara got up and marched back to the Headmaster’s desk. She watched as they huddled together, Sara speaking in a low, heated voice. 

__

Jen nudged her and grabbed a paper bag off the low coffee table. “We brought something for you. Jimmy and Maria told me to tell you that they’re so proud of you, and they miss you.” Lyra grinned up at her, opening the bag to find two sfogliatelle inside. She squirmed excitedly in Jen’s lap, pulling the pastries out and handing her one. She looked up at Jen, then over at Sara in question. “Sara’s already had hers, don’t worry.” She shifted Lyra in her lap, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans. “Mozzarella says hello, too,” she said passing over a picture of Jimmy, Maria, and their yellow lab in front of the bakery. 

__

Sara and Jen stayed through lunch. Mimsy brought it to them in the Headmaster’s office, and they talked and ate in cushy chairs around the coffee table. She waved goodbye as they stepped into the fireplace, disappearing with Professor McGonagall in a flurry of green flames. She missed them already and headed back to her dorm to cuddle with Max for a bit. She had a Potions essay to finish, and she wanted to find the Thestrals again before the week started. She placed her new picture in her nightstand, beside the picture of her and Lily. She climbed onto her bed and pulled a purring Max to her chest, kissing his furry head. 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for the kudos!!! Busy week this week; next chapter likely next weekend.


	6. Ambitious

Lyra climbed over the velvet rope, prize in hand, and quickly made her way out of the library. The school was nearly empty with most of the students and faculty home on Winter Break. Her steps echoed quietly down the dark stone corridors as she made her way back to her dormitory. Just as she was about to round a corner, she heard a door open down the next hallway, lantern light reflecting off the walls. She listened with bated breath and heard a muttering Filch turn and lock the door. Unwilling to get caught out of bed after curfew, she took off in a quiet sprint. Up stairs and down corridors she ran, searching for a place to hide. 

She had just passed a large tapestry as door emerged from the wall. Hearing Mrs. Norris’ jingling bell close behind her, she darted into the newly appeared room without thought. She held her breath, ear to the door. When the sounds of Filch and cat had faded, she let loose a sigh of relief. Turning to rest her back against the door, Lyra took in the room around her. 

It was filled to the brim with a smorgasbord of things. Off to her left was an enormous pile of broken chairs, stuffing bursting out of a nearby loveseat. Empty sherry bottles lined the floor at the foot of a large, triangular cabinet. To her right were a few broomsticks and an open trunk full of clothing, a flamboyant feather boa resting on top. Teetering towers of books lined the room; empty portrait frames and disassembled suits of armor scattered about the floor. She walked around, exploring a bit, always keeping an eye on her exit. The room was surprisingly large. In the distance, she could see a glass cabinet filled with what looked like potions ingredients. She could spend hours in here, but it was a bit eerie. 

She made note of the tapestry outside the door, trolls in tutus and a wizard attempting to teach them ballet. Laughing softly, she made her way down from the seventh floor. Returning to her dormitory, she kissed a sleepy Max splayed out on her pillow. Flopping onto her bed, she stared at the recently charmed canopy. Stars glittered prettily, an occasional comet shooting past. It was a complicated bit of magic; she had spent _weeks_ researching before finally relinquishing and asking Professor Flitwick. Sirius Black had somehow slipped past the dementors and broken into the castle on Halloween night, the same night Sara and Jen had visited her. The teachers had searched the castle while the students had been held under guard, spending the night in the Great Hall. She didn’t sleep a wink, enamored as she was with the enchanted ceiling, galaxies turning and stars dying before her eyes. 

Lyra awoke to a pleasantly warm dormitory, thankful for the house elves their care of the school and students. She stretched, arms accidentally nudging a sleeping cat. She pulled from underneath her pillow a little stuffed mouse, dangling it above his face with a quiet, “Happy Christmas, Maxie.” She smiled as he swatted at it, pride welling within her for making something he liked and for a successful transfiguration of an old sock. 

After her late-night adventure, she was reluctant to get out of bed, but Christmas Morning was not the morning for a lie-in. She pulled her curtains back and was about to head to the showers when she saw something shiny out of the corner of her eye. Sitting atop her trunk was a small stack of wrapped gifts. With a surprised grin, she reached over the foot of the bed and grabbed them, setting the gifts reverently on her bed. She had four presents; two were wrapped in the same red Santa paper, the others in shiny emerald green. Unwrapping the largest first, she found a plastic container holding two slices of panettone, a now dry slice of white bread, and an orange. 

Lyra squealed, taking a bite of the Christmas treat, surprised and grateful that Sorrentinos remembered her during the holidays. She opened the next gift, finding a green and blue plaid flannel shirt, from Jen, and tucked within it an ornate blue and green beaded headband, from Sara. Happiness filled her, her heart in her throat as she gently ran her fingers over the beads. 

She had received a gift from Jimmy and Maria, Sara and Jen. She couldn’t think of anyone else who would give her a present, so with some hesitation, she regarded the final two gifts. She picked up the larger, heavier gift and carefully tore the wrapping paper. It was a beautiful, hardback, black leather-bound book. The title had been pressed into the cover, and she ran her fingers over the indentations the letters made. The text was written in shiny gold: _Mythology_ with _Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes_ written in smaller font beneath. The cover was decorated with a golden coin of Medusa. 

Lyra looked to the final present, shiny green enclosing a small, square box. Pulling back the paper, she felt the soft velvet of a jewelry case. Max crawled into her lap, dropping his new toy, as she slowly opened the lid. A beautiful necklace lay within. She was almost certain the necklace depicted a constellation, though she was unsure of which. Shining silver metal connected the small sapphire stars, forming a tilted rhombus with a small triangle connected to the rhombus’s upper right point. She ran her fingers over the delicate chain and put it on. 

Getting out her pen and parchment, she wrote a pair of thank you notes. With an excited smile, she pulled her midnight bounty out of nightstand. The tome was heavy and had that old book smell, _Advanced Human Transfiguration_ embossed on the cover. The plan had begun forming two weeks ago. 

She had been studying in the library when Hermione joined her at their table, complaining about her two friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She complained about the boys often, but this time, Lyra's attention was piqued. The two boys had been procrastinating their Transfiguration homework and now were begging Hermione’s help and knowledge on Animagi. She allowed Lyra to read over her essay and readily gave her the reference list, happy to have found someone as eager to learn as she. 

With phase 1 complete, phase 2 would soon begin. With a smirk, she opened the book and began reading, taking an occasional bite of panettone.  


> An animagus is a witch or wizard who may turn into an animal at will; this is a learned ability, unlike the hereditary skill of a Metamorphmagus. This advanced form of human transfiguration takes immense skill and patience. The process of becoming an animagus is long and arduous with a potential for the transformation to go horribly wrong.
> 
> To become an animagus, a witch or wizard must keep a single mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire lunar month—from full moon to full moon. If the leave is swallowed or removed, the process must start again. At the next visible full moon, the witch must spit the leaf into a phial within range of the moon’s pure rays. To the moonstruck phial, the wizard must add one of their own hairs, a silver teaspoon of dew that has not seen sunlight or been touched by human feet for seven days, and the chrysalis of a Death’s Head Hawk Moth. This mixture must then be left undisturbed in a quiet, dark place. From the first day the witch places the mandrake leaf in her mouth and every day thereafter for the duration of the process, she must recite an incantation: _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_. The animagus potion is to be consumed during a lightning storm.
> 
> Once this process has been properly completed, the animagus may change at will, with or without the use of a wand. Animagi can only take the form of one specific animal. This form is not chosen by the witch or wizard but determined by their personality and magic. Each animagus has a distinguishing feature of their human form which they are required to report when registering with the Ministry of Magic. 

  


She had never encountered such a complex piece of magic before, but Lyra had put her mind to becoming an animagus. And she was determined to see this through. She practiced her magic for nearly an hour, Charms, Transfiguration, and DADA. With a frustrated sigh, she gave up, failing once again at conjuring a patronus. 

She dressed for the day, wearing wool tights under her jeans and thick fuzzy socks. Winter was very cold in Scotland, even with warming charms, so she wore a waffle shirt and jumper under her new flannel. She packed her books in her bag, gave Max a kiss on the head, and grabbed her winter cloak before heading out to the forest. A crow squawked overhead; the snow crunched under her feet, a thick layer coating the Hogwarts grounds in an immaculate blanket of white. Less snow had fallen in the meadow, but it was still cold. She refreshed her warming charm and greeted the Thestrals as they came to say hello. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra spent the Winter Break devouring her new book, spending time with the Thestrals in the forest and Max in her dormitory, and searching the castle for animagus potion ingredients. Max continued to grow, almost too big now to fit on her slim shoulders. The full moon in December had been just four days after Christmas. The mandrake leaf was easy enough to find in the greenhouses, awkward though it was to have in her mouth, especially around supper time. Lucky for her, the professors rarely called on her, knowing she did not talk much. The remaining ingredients had proven more difficult. However, upon finding the hidden room again and searching for hours, she was ecstatic to find the moth chrysalis. It had been hidden in a glass cabinet amongst other rare and unusual potions ingredients of questionable legality. 

The next full moon was a week from tomorrow, and she headed out to the forest after DADA class. She greeted the Thestral herd, having given them all names from her new book. The three older males were not as friendly as the females and younger males; she called them Zeus, Poseidon, and Pluto, after the big three. There was Hera and Hestia, the two older females; Demeter, who would have a foal soon; Eris, the troublemaker; Apollo and Artemis, Aphrodite, Maia, Calliope, Iris, Io, Eros, Hephaestus, and Psyche. Athena, the Thestral who had interacted with her that first day, was still her favorite. 

Athena and Demeter were the friendliest with her, coming to greet her as she entered the meadow. Artemis and Apollo, Calliope, Iris, and Maia seemed to like her well enough. Eris was almost constantly nipping at her hood and pockets or snuffling in her hair. Most of the others were indifferent to her, but Lyra was happy enough to be in the company of the gentle creatures. After brainstorming ideas for untouched dew, she had finally found a complicated charm in a library book. If she could do it correctly, it would warm an area on a timer--perfect for creating dew in the cold Scottish winter. Finding an ideal space near the base of a tree, she crossed her fingers and cast the charm, watching as the snow gently melted.

One week later, Lyra darted out of the castle after her midnight astronomy class. Before she entered the forest, she spit the leaf into the glass phial, ensuring it was in reach of the moon’s rays. With a light from the tip of her wand, she made her way through the dark forest, arriving in the meadow once more. From her bag, she pulled a silver teaspoon and the chrysalis. To the phial, she added a hair pulled from her head, the carefully collected dew, and the chrysalis. She left the potion in a little nook at the base of a tree and covered it with debris. With a giddy smile, she returned to the castle, eagerly awaiting the next thunderstorm. 

Sara came to visit her on Sunday, without Jen this time. Lyra made sure to pull her hair back with the gifted headband, which garnered a pleased smile from Sara. With a quiet _orchideous_ , she produced a bouquet of white lilies and her handwritten thank you cards. They spoke for over an hour, discussing school and Lyra’s mental health. She still gave a rating of six, but she made sure to tell Sara how much she was enjoying her time at Hogwarts. 

Sara’s visits seemed to be an unwitting catalyst as it began storming that same night. She finished supper quickly as soon as she saw the first flash of lightning in the enchanted ceiling. She dropped Max off in her dormitory, giving him a kiss for luck, before she dashed out of the castle and into the woods. The storm had begun in earnest, freezing rain stinging her skin and soaking her cloak. The path to the meadow was slick with ice, making her journey slow and treacherous. It took her twice as long, but she made it. Saying a quick hello to the Thestrals and pressing another good luck kiss to Athena’s bony head, she uncovered the hidden potion. 

She paused in her excitement for a moment, remembering the grotesque botched transformations shown in the book. _This is quite possibly the most idiotic thing I have ever done_. A rogue crow seemed to squawk in agreement. She looked once more at the Thestral herd, freezing rain dripping down through the trees, sporadic flashes lighting up the meadow. Ignoring the outside world, she put her nervousness in a mental box and shoved it away, drinking the potion. She emptied her mind and closed her eyes, allowing herself to just feel the magic. 

The warmth began flowing through her body, and she reminded herself to relax as she shrank, a tight, tingling feeling in her ears and teeth. The sensation of fur sprouting from her skin could only be described as _odd_. She breathed deeply, waiting until the magic cooled. Opening her eyes, she was much lower to the earth. Looking down she saw thin, furry legs and paws. She could feel something swishing behind her and turned her head quickly to catch it. She had a tail! She spun in circles for a few moments before remembering herself. She was an animagus! She let out a laugh which came out as a high-pitched yip, startling her. 

The Thestrals were a pawing at the ground and neighing at her, so she hunched low to the earth and instinctively rolled over onto her back. Eris ventured over and snuffled at the fur on her chest before prancing away. Lyra hopped up from her submissive position and yipped at Eris, jumping around and playing with the Thestral for several minutes. With the animals now more relaxed around her, she shook her fur out, panting. She could tell that she was a canine of some sort, but she wasn’t sure what.

Hoping that sleet had mostly abated, she made her way to the Black Lake. It was frozen over, but she managed to find a small match of clear ice. Her reflection was blurry, but she could see large, pointed ears and a thin snout. Her fur was a reddish grey color, and her eyes the same pale blue. She figured the eye color must be her identifying feature as an animagus. She didn’t think she was a wolf, but she knew she wasn’t a dog. Adding foreign canine species to her list of things to research, she headed back to meadow. Unsure of how to prompt the change, she focused on her human form. This transformation was quick and did not feel quite as odd; perhaps she would get used to it with time. Back to normal, she waved goodbye to the Thestrals and trekked back to the castle, a tired but pleased smile on her face. 

She woke to a cuddly, purring Max and to a congested head, runny nose, and sore throat. _It wasn’t a dream, then_. After months of build-up, it had all happened so quickly. She could hardly believe she had actually done it. She was an animagus. She went through her morning routine in a happy daze, ignoring the glances she received from her dormmates and those at the breakfast table. Professor McGonagall had taken one look at her in Transfiguration class and sent her straight to Madame Pomfrey. _Worth it_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Surprise early chapter. Animagus information comes from Harry Potter wikia and Pottermore; the book title was made up. The mythology book Lyra receives is a well known book of the same title by Edith Hamilton. I was trying to describe a necklace of the constellation Lyra, hopefully it wasn't super unclear! Another chapter likely this weekend. Thank you so much for the kudos and for reading!!!


	7. Bad Timing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Description of panic attack, dissociation, self-injury, possible suicidal ideation in this chapter.

Time was flying by; already she had been at Hogwarts for almost six months. Her life had changed so much. She was hesitant to say she had two friends, but Scarlett Carter had slowly become friendlier with her. It began with Max, sweet outgoing boy that he is. Scarlett’s parents did not allow her a pet, and she was always pleased when Lyra allowed her a cuddle. They worked together on their essays occasionally, proofreading each other’s work. And just recently, Scarlett had started sitting by her at meals. Lyra liked her; she was nice and funny. She was pretty, too, with deep blue eyes, curly dark red hair, and a smattering of freckles. 

Hermione, on the other hand, had grown distant. It happened rather suddenly; she had been curious one day, asking if she had a twin. She explained that she had seen Hermione, or who she thought was the older girl, walking towards the Transfiguration classroom and then not two minutes later walking out of Greenhouse 3. And the more Lyra looked, the more she noticed. Surely, someone cannot be in two places at once. After explaining her theory, Hermione had brusquely brushed her off and left the library without finishing her work. The older girl had been avoiding her since. She was confused and a bit hurt. 

Demeter had given birth to a little Thestral filly just over a week ago; Lyra called her Persephone. She was so cute! The tiny little thing could barely open her wings. Already she had come to know Lyra as a friend and bringer of treats. Between her and Eris, it was a miracle her robes remained intact. When she wasn’t studying every piece of magic she could her hands on, she spent her time in her animagus form. The Thestrals had become more comfortable with her canine self, as had Lyra. It was easier and less peculiar feeling to transform each time, though she was still occasionally startled by her tail. 

It was well after supper, and she was just returning to the dungeons from her four-legged free time when Professor Snape called to her through his open office door. His office was surprisingly well lit, books scattered around and potions bubbling in a long line behind his desk. “Miss Black, I need you to deliver this potion to Professor Lupin. _Don’t_ ask questions.” He cut her off as she opened her mouth. Lyra nodded and took the phial from him, rolling her eyes on her way out. 

It was nearing curfew, and she hadn’t encountered anyone on her way to the DADA classroom. She could see a light shining from under the door and pushed it open, stepping into the room. She gasped in surprise and fear at the Dementor in the room. The large, dark creature hovering over a black-haired boy, its cloak dragging on the ground. It was Hermione’s friend, Harry, trying and failing to produce a sufficient patronus. Professor Lupin stepped forward, calling out her name as she reached for her wand. 

It happened suddenly, the Dementor morphing into him. She backed away, her fight-or-flight response triggered by the sight of his dark eyes and heavy toolbelt. He reached out to her, calling her name. She could feel her heart racing, her breathing coming fast and shallow. Her retreat was halted by a heavy desk, and the phial shattered on the stone floor, Lyra following. She pulled her knees to her chest and tightly wrapped her arms around the wooden leg, gripping her elbows. Her vision became blurry and narrow; everything was so loud, but she couldn’t hear. Her mind was screaming. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus was in the middle of a letter, keeping an eye on his brewing potions, when he heard a screeching sound outside his office door. He tried to ignore it, dipping his quill into the inkpot, but the screeching continued, some how even more shrill. Scrubbing cauldrons, he thought, would be the perfect punishment for this racket as he whipped open his office door. The corridor was empty; he calmly listened for the telltale giggles and wordlessly cast _Homenum Revelio_ , disappointed to find no troublemakers. 

He returned to his desk and his correspondence. He jumped, his quill scratching across the parchment with a thick black line; the shrill screech coming from within the room. He glared down at the source, Lyra Black’s mongrel cat, screaming at him from between his feet. He grabbed the little monster by his scruff and tossed him into the corridor. He attempted to return to his potions, but the damn cat would not shut up. 

He angrily exited his office, intent on cursing the mongrel the quiet, only to find the cat trotting away continuing his infernal screeching. He stalked after the animal who kept glancing back at him, apparently leading him somewhere. His suspicion rose as the cat’s path seemed to be leading to the Defense classroom. He broke into a jog at seeing a rushing Minerva turn the corner, Potter trailing behind her. They burst into the classroom together, coming to an abrupt stop. 

Lyra Black sat on the floor, having some kind of fit and banging her head against a table leg. The damn clever cat now perched precariously on her thin shoulder. Lupin made an excellent impression of a dead fish, gaping and hovering around the girl. A sturdy, middle-aged man wearing a utility belt paced in front of them, muttering under his breath. Minerva dismissed Potter quickly, darting into the room, glass crunching under feet. She placed her palm between Lyra’s head and the table leg, knocking the cat off his perch, and demanded to know what happened. At the same time Severus asked, “Who the _fuck_ is that?” He turned and slammed the door shut on a lingering Potter. 

“It’s a boggart. I was teaching young Harry the Patronus charm when Miss Black turned up unexpectedly. I sent Harry to get assistance and was just trying to help the girl.” 

“The least you could do is banish the damn thing, you bumbling idiot. It is, after all, _your job_.” Snape snarled, stepping in front of the girl. Her eyes were glazed, and she continued banging her head, now into Minerva’s palm. Minerva was speaking to the girl in low, quiet tones, and Snape followed suit, trying to get her attention. He snapped his fingers in front of her face, garnering no reaction. He noticed blood coming from her hand and gently tried to pry the girl’s arms apart. The little witch had a surprisingly strong grip. 

Minerva made eye contact with him over Lyra’s head. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes, then reluctantly admitted to himself that it was very difficult to see someone so young suffering. She was a sweet kid and too clever for her own good. She reminded him too much of her mother; he felt his heart break a tiny bit for them. Such an emotional reaction took him by surprise; he thought he lost the ability to feel that way a long time ago. Pushing the thought from his mind, he cast a patronus, his doe carrying a message to Poppy Pomfrey. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had taken several minutes for Lyra to calm down, but to Minerva it had felt like hours. Poppy had arrived just as the girl’s breathing had slowed, her head resting against Minerva’s hand. She was still unresponsive to them and her loudly meowing cat. Her body had gone limp, her arms now easily removed from their hold. A shard of glass caught the light, shining in her bloody palm. Her concern for Lyra overrode her surprise and quiet pride as Severus carried the girl to the hospital wing. 

It was eerie, Lyra’s blank stare as they moved all around her. Poppy had to practically force the calming drought down her throat. She and Severus watched on, having a heavy discussion. How many other students had boggarts that became not snakes or spiders, or even Lord Voldemort, but a parent or guardian? How many children had slipped through the cracks? What could be done for abused children in a magical world with no way to report suspicion? 

Severus left, muttering about returning later, a dark look in his eye. She forced her mind away from thoughts of the little girl’s abuse as a rush of green flames signaled the Headmaster’s arrival. Ms. Young quickly followed, rushing over to her charge. Sara only had eyes for Lyra now, brushing her dark hair from her face and inspecting the girl’s bloodied but healed hand. She had been quite upset the last time they had met back in October, lecturing them on transparency and endangering the physical and emotional wellbeing of children. Minerva was sure Sara would have words with them later. 

Nearly an hour after Ms. Young arrived and another calming draught, Lyra finally fell asleep. Sara tucked the girl in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning away, making eye contact with her. Minerva sent her patronus off to Severus, the tabby cat casting a silvery glow, as she led them to a corner where the Headmaster was seated. Severus arrived only a few minutes later, robes swirling dramatically around him as he gently closed the door. 

“What happened?” She and Severus looked towards Albus, waiting for him to speak. After a heavy moment, it became clear that he would not. Minerva could almost feel the tension in the air. “As far as I know,” she said, “Lyra went to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. While there, she unwittingly interrupted a tutoring session between the professor and another student. The lesson was about Boggarts—a magical creature that takes the form of a person’s worst fear. The professor sent the other student for assistance after Lyra’s reaction. When Severus and I arrived, Lyra was seated on the floor, unresponsive and hitting her head against the leg of a desk. We have assumed that the boggart triggered this, as it had taken the form of a person unknown to us.” Sara’s face had become closed off, her emotions difficult to read. 

“And how did Lyra become involved in this tutoring session?” Before Minerva could answer, Severus spoke. “That was my doing; I needed a potion delivered. Had I known Lupin was working with a boggart, I would have delivered it myself. First years are not typically exposed to such creatures due to the mental and emotional development needed to dispel them.” Sara sighed, seeming to begrudgingly accept their explanation. “Lucky for you all, I am a certified crisis counselor. When Lyra wakes, she will be assessed. Hopefully she will be safety planned and deflected rather than hospitalized. I understand that this was an unfortunate incident of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but please try to ensure that something like this does not happen again.” 

Albus had left not long after their discussion; Minerva couldn’t help but be slightly cross with his unhelpfulness. Severus, too, had taken his leave nearing 23:00. She thought about retiring to her quarters as well, and though it was the wee hours of the morning, she could not bring herself to do so. The image of Lyra’s boggart was burned into her brain; the man himself seemed so unassuming. If she passed him on the street in the muggle world, she doubted she would even notice him. And yet, he had done something horrible enough to become a sweet little girl’s worst fear. 

Between the crimes of Grindelwald and the war with Riddle, she had seen heinous things. Things that haunted her, gave her the occasional nightmare to this day. Perhaps child protective services would not be the only thing she would be discussing with her Ministry contacts. Merlin knows there were plenty of witches and wizards who needed mental health services beyond what St. Mungo’s offered. 

Lyra’s waking pulled her from her brooding. She watched, unnoticed in a dark corner near Poppy’s quarters. Lyra’s tears slowed as Sara spoke to her in low tones and plaited her long hair. Her blue eyes, normally bright with curiosity, were dull and glazed, her skin paler next to the red of her eyes and nose. Minerva could barely hear the girl’s mumbling as she drifted off to sleep once more. But, what she did hear chilled her to the bone, the young girl's troubled past becoming clearer. “Why, Sara? Why am I still here? Why didn’t I die with Lily?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late chapter. Real life has kind of gone to shit, so I haven't been writing as much. Thank you so much for reading, subscribing, and leaving kudos! Hopefully next chapter will be this weekend or early next week.


	8. Overcast

Lyra woke to an aching head and gritty, swollen eyes. The hospital wing was quiet, sunlight filtering in through the high windows, dust motes dancing. Max’s warm weight was resting on her chest, his rumbling purr comforting as she ran her fingers through his soft fur. The cot in the hospital ward was stiff, and she shifted slowly to take in the room. 

There was no one in sight, so she sat up, gently moving Max into her lap. With ever impeccable timing, Mimsy appeared with a small pop, a tray of breakfast floating with her. The kind elf chattered on as Lyra picked at her food; she was grateful that Mimsy seemed not to mind her silence. She couldn’t bring herself to eat much, but she knew what Sara would say. _Not eating is not an option_. Mimsy disappeared with the tray and a promise to visit soon. 

Sara entered the room quietly, Madame Pomfrey following. Lyra steeled herself, taking in her social worker’s serious countenance. “You know what’s next Lyra, yes?” After a nod, Sara continued. “I have heard what happened from your teachers.” Lyra looked down and fidgeted with the bedspread and Max’s flicking tail. “We have talked about this before, but I want to remind you. Hospitalization is not a punishment; I want you to be safe and get the care you need. Do you have any thoughts of hurting others?” She shook her head. “Do you have any thoughts of hurting yourself?” She shook her head again; Sara tilted her chin up with a finger, making eye contact with her. Lyra shook her head once more. “Are you able to take care of yourself properly?” At this she looked to the bedspread again, shrugging her shoulders after a moment. “Thank you for being honest with me. You have an opinion here, too, of course. And you know yourself the best. Do you think you need to be hospitalized?” As Lyra shook her head once more, she asked, “Do you think you need to be on medicine again?” 

“Can I try without for a bit?” She glanced up to see Sara smiling at her. “I think that would be alright, Lyra. But how about we compromise, and you come to London on Fridays for appointments with Anna?” Sara ducked her head down, trying to make eye contact with her. “I will work it out with your school; you can travel using the floo. It’s very quick and not painful. You can meet with Anna weekly for a bit, then we can go from there. I really think this is for the best; what do you think, Lyra?” 

She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head, continuing to fidget with her hands. Anna had been her therapist for years, since she had nearly drowned in the bath at five. She liked Anna, who spoke in a quiet soothing voice and always believed her. Sara stayed for another hour, discussing with her and Madame Pomfrey her safety plan. As she was not a danger to herself, Lyra would meet with Madame Pomfrey every other day until she was established with her therapist. While Lyra did like Anna, she hoped that the time between her appointments would quickly lengthen. She did not like to miss school, and it usually brought unwanted attention from her classmates. 

She hunched her shoulders at the stares she received walking back into the common room. Her clothes were rumpled from spending the night in them, her hair likely a mess, and dried blood still on her palm. She quickly made her way back to the dormitory, Max balanced across her shoulders. Lyra startled at the grip on her wrist and forced herself to relax. “Where have you been, Lyra?” Scarlett was dressed casually for the weekend, her navy dress flattering and soft-looking. “I was sick last night, but I’m better now.” Max leapt off her shoulders and onto her bed. “Oh, alright. Um, do you want to go to the library later, maybe after lunch? We can work on DADA stuff.” She nodded and sent Scarlett a smile as she gathered her things and headed to the showers. 

It had taken two weeks for Anna to have a spot open for her—two weeks of uncomfortable scrutiny from Madame Pomfrey. The verdant flames of floo travel were frightening, but, as Sara said, they were not painful. It was a fine way to travel, minus the soot. Her professors accommodated the change well, giving her Fridays' work early. Well, all except Professor Binns, Lyra didn’t think he even noticed her absence. She had been seeing Anna weekly for a month, talking and working on coping skills. It had been another week still before Scarlett asked her about her absences. They were in the library, working at a different table than what once was her usual. Hermione was still avoiding her, and so Lyra did the same. 

“Where have you been on Fridays?” She stiffened and glanced up from her book, stopping her absent-minded stroking, causing Max to perk to attention. “You do not have to tell me, not if you don’t want to. But, I had thought we were becoming friends.” She paused, “we could trade secrets, if you like? That way we both would have shown our bellies so to speak.” Lyra considered the girl for a moment, taking in her unusually solemn face. “I’m a foster kid.” 

“I apologize, Lyra, but I, um, don't really know what that means.” Lyra took a deep breath and scratched under Max’s chin, seeking comfort. “It means that I am unwanted, abandoned by my family as soon as I was born. It means that I have been bounced from home to home, being used as a meal ticket or for drug money, then returned when something better comes along. I go to therapy on Fridays, for depression.” Scarlett’s eye contact made her uncomfortable, but she would not look away. The other girl broke the connection, looking down at her hands. “What does depression feel like?” 

She paused for a long moment, analyzing the other girl. “It feels like nothing, like I am nothing. It feels like a grey, overcast day, like all the color has been sucked out.” She felt far away, speaking of things this way. She could barely hear Scarlett’s quiet words. “I think I’m depressed.” She paused, wiping at her nose. “My parents had me first then my little brother, Abraham. I was little, but I can still remember when they first brought him home. They were so happy. It feels like, since then, that nothing I ever do is enough. It’s like they don’t even see me, only him. The one who can ‘carry on the family name.’ I’m an outcast in my own family. It…it hurts.” 

Lyra reached out and grasped her hand, rubbing her thumb along her knuckles as Lily once did for her. “We are quite the pair aren’t we, unloved and unwanted.” Scarlett’s laugh was bitter, and she squeezed the redhead’s hand in response. “One of the things I work on in therapy is positive affirmations and healthy coping skills. I try every day to be kinder to others and kinder to myself. It is difficult, but it is important. Perhaps we can work on it together. You are not unwanted to me.” Scarlett smiled then fell quiet, looking pensive. “Perhaps we can be each other’s family. I have felt more at home here than anywhere else.” The air was thick with heavy emotions, and Lyra longed to turn back to her work as not to be overwhelmed. She gave Scarlett a smile and squeezed her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than usual, but this one was unexpected. The characters kind of drove the story this way, and I am okay with that. It will probably be longer between this chapter and the next. I have been posting the chapters nearly as soon I as I have finished and edited them. I want to get a chapter or two ahead before posting, to try to make the story and the writing better. Thank you all so much for reading, subscribing, and leaving kudos!!!


	9. Correspondence

Morpheus,  
Apollo has arrived safely, as has Atlas. Apollo shines brilliant and lonely. Atlas continues his course. Athena is fond of Apollo; Zeus seemingly disinterested. No word yet on Cerberus’s whereabouts; however, Artemis has returned to Mount Olympus. How is Agamemnon treating you? Write soon.  
Acrisius

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Acrisius,  
Agamemnon is as always. I am pleased to hear that Apollo shines brightly; I wish to someday soon see that light with mine own eyes. I ache to hear of Apollo’s loneliness. How goes A + A’s progress? I am not displeased to hear that Apollo caught the interest of loyal Athena. But please, dear Acrisius, do your best to keep Zeus disinterested. No word here either on Cerberus. Send word if you need flowers for Artemis. Hold strong.  
Morpheus 

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Morpheus,  
Atlas continues down the path Agamemnon has set; however, I see your influence in the quiet. Apollo frequently ventures to Diana’s domain visiting a Pegasus herd. Unknown how this came to be. Do not dwell, dear Morpheus. Apollo shines bright. Send flowers for Artemis in 3 weeks. Write soon.  
Acrisius

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Morpheus,  
Interesting visit with Helios, Athena, and Zeus. Zeus more interested after seeing Apollo’s exceptional light. Helios and his Love have a place in Apollo’s heart. Helios is strong-willed and caring regarding Zeus’s control of creation. A possible ally to be found. Apollo reveals shadows regarding Hades’ guards and a link to Pegasus via a White Madonna. Cerberus has entered Mount Olympus and been repelled. The attention of Atlas has been drawn by a Dogwood Flower. Apollo has your scheming face. Write soon.  
Acrisius 

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Acrisius,  
I am pleased to hear of Apollo’s likeness and displeased to hear of a wavering Atlas. Please continue to observe and inform. Unable to find information on the Madonna. Dear Acrisius, I am forever grateful for your brotherhood. My soul aches and yearns to be reunited with those dear to me. Please send a balm with your next letter. Hold strong.  
Morpheus

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Morpheus,  
Apollo has done the unthinkable. Coyotes now roam Diana’s domain. A Sisyphean feat it will be to mind The Light. Agamemnon will face retribution for his crimes. Write soon.  
Acrisius

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Acrisius,  
I am proud and terrified to hear of how brightly Apollo shines. A Sisyphean feat, indeed. A package for The Light will be arriving soon as well as a treat for you. Hold strong.  
Morpheus

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Acrisius,  
The Solstice has shined brightly on Atlas. How has it treated Apollo and yourself? Send balm soon.  
Morpheus

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Morpheus,  
Hold strong, dear friend, and know that I wish to relieve you of your burden as Hercules would Prometheus. Apollo continues to shine bright, and the Solstice has blessed us with your influence. Write soon.  
Acrisius

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Morpheus,  
Cerberus has grown bolder. Artemis is mentoring Perseus in view of Mount Olympus. The Dogwood no longer holds Atlas’s favor, for now. Apollo seems to have found a friend in a young Celt after a falling out with the Shakespearean. Write soon.  
Acrisius

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Acrisius,  
Finally, a lead on The Madonna. As expected, she is gone. Little is known. Seized from an opiated mother and died at the hands of a transient guardian. 14.  
Morpheus 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morpheus,  
Apollo suffers, and I have seen The Face of Evil. Young Apollo interrupted Artemis and Perseus dealing with Hermes’ Shadow. It is my regret that I sent the Light into its’ grasp. I am sure the Transient Guardian and the Shadow’s form are one in the same. Helios is fierce, and Apollo will visit Hippocrates until Helios arranges for another healer. The Light is resilient and will fight The Night. Hold strong and write soon.  
Acrisius  
P.S. Your Light, dear Morpheus, is illuminating; my heart is not completely black.

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Acrisius,  
There are no words for how I ache to hear of The Light’s suffering. The Night’s grip is strong, and I hope my sweet Apollo will hold out better than I have. Acrisius, I cannot wait much longer. She calls to me, and I long to hold her close. Dear friend, I have so many regrets. Did I do the right thing?  
Morpheus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no update! So sorry about that! So much has been happening, and I am still so busy! Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner.


	10. Adventure

Six weeks until term was over, then she would be forced back into the group home. Well, only if her plan failed. Hogwarts was more her home than any house she had lived in previously. Sure, her housemates were distant, but she had found a friend in Scarlett. She missed Sara and Jen, but they were her social workers. They’re just doing their job. At Hogwarts, she didn’t have to rely on any one else. She could go where she wanted when she wanted and do whatever she pleased with no foster parents getting in the way. She had the forest and the library, the hidden room, and she could practice magic. So, she planned. 

Nobody paid her much attention to her comings and goings other than Scarlett. And while she considered Scarlett a dear friend, Lyra wasn’t one to trust easily. The secret room was still that, a secret. Mimsy and most of the other elves served Hogwarts and called the castle their permanent home. The secret room could hide her and Max while the elves in the kitchens made sure they didn’t starve. It was just three months; she could make it work, right? Jen and Sara, well, she could convince them that some students boarded during the summer. _What about therapy with Anna?_ She’d think on that later. 

The air was fresh and Spring sweet, the ground soft under her pounding paws. The burn in her lungs and ache of her muscles drew her out of her thoughts, and she panted as she reentered the thestrals’ meadow. The herd was spread wide, lazily grazing. Little Persephone flew a couple feet off the ground straining to reach a mischievous Eris just out of reach. Max wound between her legs and Athena snuffled the fur at her nape as she slowly caught her breath. She flopped down onto the forest floor intending to spend a bit more time with her winged friends. 

Her initial assumption was correct—the change now only left her with a lingering feeling of warm magic. She grabbed her rucksack and headed in for Sunday supper, Max trotting behind her. Scarlett intercepted her on her way to the Great Hall, linking their arms and speaking lowly about the astronomy assignment. Scarlett continued speaking throughout the meal with Max curled up between them. Lyra’s mind was elsewhere, still stuck in planning mode. 

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The hidden room was endless it seemed—books, trinkets, cabinets, creature skeletons, books, clothes, furniture, more books, and two gramophones. Deep within the room she found an old canopy bed. The support plats were broken at the foot, the mattress tipped at an angle. Its tattered canopy was a deep maroon, and the dark wood was covered in dust. It was better than nothing, and it was ideally located. She was deep enough in the room that the entrance could not be seen, and there were plenty of quick hiding places nearby should she need it.

She had dragged one of the heavy gramophones a good few meters, its metal legs making a horrible screeching sound on the floor before remembering that she had magic. She sighed, rolling her eyes at herself, and pulled her wand out, levitating the gramophone to the side of the bed. Back near the other gramophone, she found a milk crate full of old records. She chose one and was pleasantly surprised to hear the crooning voice of Jo Stafford echoing in the room. Mum number 5 used to listen to old records like this while she cooked. It was one of the good homes, well, until they sent her back.

She sat on the floor near the record player and contemplated how she would fix the bed. She flipped through her Charms textbook, quickly skimming the pages for the right spell. She gave up for the moment and instead transfigured the tattered canopy and charmed the dust away. She charmed the bedding emerald green, then used the complicated spell to make the canopy reflect the night sky. Flipping through the book once more, she found a promising transformation charm. Slipping her upper body beneath the bed frame, she looked towards the broken planks and whispered “ _Expoximise_.” She smiled in satisfaction as the bedframe repaired itself.

She spent another hour searching the room. Near the bed she placed a potions table, the cabinet from which she retrieved the chrysalis of the Death’s Head Hawk Moth situated alongside it. With a couple of chairs, she transfigured a cat tree for Max. There was a series of bookshelves not far from where she had made camp. All she needed to do now was clean everything, then this summer she would be able to explore and study to her heart’s content.

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It was nearing curfew when she finally started heading back to her dormitory. She was walking down a seldomly used corridor, idly running her fingers along the ornate picture frames when she heard approaching footsteps and hushed voices. Hearing The Bat’s voice among them, she quickly ducked behind a suit of armor. Covering her mouth with her hand, she muffled her breathing and tried to calm her pounding heart. Professor McGonagall stopped at a large portrait of rolling hills, an old stone castle nearly hidden in the moors. Lyra strained to hear the hushed voices as she conversed with Professor Snape and a fancy blonde lady.

They were arguing, that much she could tell. She heard her name mentioned and the word ‘mother.’ She strained her hearing further, carefully peaking around the knight’s armor. Must be a new foster placement. _Gee, too bad it won’t work out_ , she thought wryly. Professor McGonagall cut their conversation off, opening the portrait with a password. As the adults were entering the room, Lyra started sneaking out from her hiding place. The blonde lady turned just as Lyra was making her escape, making eye contact and whispering her name. She froze in shock and watched as her professors turned back to face her. _Run._

She took off down the corridor, her feet slapping on the stone flooring. She could hear them following behind her, McGonagall calling out “Miss Black!” She continued running, her rucksack thumping against her back as she flew down the stairs. A spell whizzed by her head as she turned a corner. _Jesus_ , she thought, _must’ve been Snape_. She was nearly back to the common room when she skidded to a stop, catching herself on her hands and changing direction. _Snape can get into the common room, doofus!_

She sprinted outside making her way down to the woods. She sent a quick ‘thank you’ up to the moon for being bright enough that she didn’t need her wand to see. She came to a stop in the meadow, breathing hard with her hands on her knees. The thestrals were still here, but she wasn’t surprised. They didn’t travel as much with a baby in the herd. She leaned heavily on Athena, catching her breath and trying to process what just happened.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Mystery Lady were discussing her. They mentioned the word ‘mother.’ Maybe mystery lady was a magical social worker. Or maybe she was her new foster placement, and they wanted her to interview tomorrow. But what about Sara? Sara was always there when she interviewed with potential placements. _Focus, Lyra_. Mystery lady caught her eavesdropping, so she panicked and ran. Her teachers chased after her and one of them tried to stop her with a spell. Why were they so intent on stopping her? She was definitely in trouble, but may something deeper was going on. She sighed deeply.

A crow squawked overhead, and Athena started shifting nervously. The other thestrals were whinnying and pawing the ground. She looked around the meadow, trying to see what had upset them. They started forming a circle, Persephone in the middle of it with her. The hair on the back of stood up, and she could feel her ears twitching, her hearing getting sharper. Something was wrong. A howl pierced the night air, and her heart jumped into her throat.

Into the meadow leapt a werewolf. The full moon illuminating its dark eyes and long, thin limbs. A low growl came from its throat, its sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. The thestrals around her were panicking. Hades and Poseidon were rearing and kicking at the creature to keep it away. Eris was tugging at the hood of her cloak; the circle was thinning as most of the herd took to the air. Persephone was struggling to fly up into to the trees, and Demeter was starting to panic, her eyes rolling and wild. The werewolf’s growls were getting closer as the stallions followed the herd.

Her heart was pounding, and she felt hot with sweat despite the cool night air. She picked the filly up and climbed onto Demeter’s back. She gripped Demeter tightly with her thighs, one hand entangled in her mane. She held Persephone securely with her other arm, trying to keep her close to her chest. Her heart was pounding in her ears as they rose higher, soaring above the forest. Demeter flew so swiftly all she could hear was the wind rushing past her ears. She shifted Persephone, carefully tucking her inside her cloak, her long bony legs pressing into her. She gripped Demeter’s mane as they started to descend. The branches whipped past them, stinging her arm and legs. Her cheek burned, and she tucked her head close to the thestral’s neck as they quickly approached the forest floor.

She climbed off Demeter with shaky legs and carefully placed Persephone on the ground. They were much deeper in the forest than she had ever ventured. After a quick head count, she sighed in relief; all of the thestrals made it out safely. With a werewolf on the loose and deep in an unfamiliar glen, she thought it best to stay with the herd that night. She’d find her way back and face the music in the morning. _There’s no way I won’t be expelled this time_. She rubbed at the sting in her cheek and curled up with Eris, wishing for her warm cloak. Lyra could feel the adrenaline leaving her, fatigue setting in, and she strained her eyes doing her best to stay awake.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her screams woke her, and she clutched her chest, eyes darting around the forest. She rubbed at her face and practiced the calming exercises Anna taught her. She could hear the thestral herd breathing, the wind whooshing through the trees, the cry of an owl. She could see the full moon, Athena glancing over at her, and her breath, as it fogged in the chilly air. She could smell the earthy smell of the herd, the new Spring flowers at the edge of the glen, and coolness, like the first frost of winter. She could feel the warmth of Eris at her back, the hard ground beneath her sore bottom, and her arm hair rising with goosebumps as the air got colder. Her chest welled with despair, and she clutched tightly at her wand. Dementors were surrounding them, blotting out the full moon's light. The thestrals were whinnying and once again forming a circle. The warmth at her back left her as Eris joined them. She sat on the ground still, desperately waving her wand and repeating “ _Expecto patronum_.”

The thestrals were packed tightly around her, so much so that she was hidden underneath the bellies of two of them. Tears rolled over her cheeks, but she could feel the affects of the dementors dwindling. Slowly, the whinnies stopped, and the temperature grew warmer. Eventually, the thestral herd broke their defensive huddle. She stood on shaking legs and clutched Eris’s neck, burying her face in her mane. She could feel several of thestrals snuffling at her hair and little Persephone nipping at the hem of her sweater. She smiled into Eris’s neck; she was grateful beyond words to have met and befriended these gentle creatures.

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Her head thumped to the forest floor. Early morning grey light filtered through the trees; her makeshift pillow, Eris, was moving towards the grazing herd. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. She pilfered through her rucksack looking for something to eat, cursing herself for not keeping food on her at all times. Ignoring her growling stomach, she said goodbye to the herd, apologizing for the trouble she had caused and thanking them again for protecting her. She dodged Eris’s nipping teeth and slowly climbed out of the valley. As she glanced back at the herd, they seemed content in their refuge.

The forest was green and damp, birds chirping and little animals scurrying. She slowly made her way over large roots and fallen trees, thankful for her animagus experience. She’d lived in the city her whole life; there was no way she would have been able to do this a year ago. She laughed, thinking of what Sloane and the other girls would look like trudging through the forest. The subtle background music of the woods had gone quiet, and she tensed up, her instincts flaring. Something moved at the edge of her vision. She stifled a scream at seeing an enormous silvery web and a spider with a head the size of a dinner plate. She moved quickly and quietly, keeping the spider in her peripheral vision as much as she could. A few hundred meters away, she finally breathed a sigh of relief, and resolved herself to keep a sharp eye out for more of them and any other creatures the forest may be hiding.

The sun rose steadily as she made her way through the forest, and she realized that the thestrals had flown much further than she realized last night. The sun was nearly at its zenith when her thoughts were interrupted with shouts and pounding hooves. She scrambled into a hollow log and covered her mouth to stifle her breathing. The thundering sound of the sprinting centaurs overwhelmed her as the leapt over her hiding space. All of the books she had read said the Hogwarts herd was not friendly to humans, and she desperately hoped they wouldn’t detect her. She tried to calm her breathing down as the sound gradually faded. She crawled out of the log and sighed as she inspected her torn tights. With a quick “ _Episkey_ ” she healed her scraped hands and knees and decided to keep her wand at the ready.

Finally, she reached an area that she recognized about a few miles from the edge of the forest. She made her way to the meadow, the familiar squawking of crows overhead. Just as she entered the familiar clearing, a hand slammed down on her shoulder. She screamed and whipped around throwing her wand arm up in defense. “Don’t speak. You have no idea how much trouble you’re in,” Professor Snape growled. She nodded and brought her wand down to her side watching as her Head of House sent red sparks shooting high into the air.

A few minutes of tense silence later, they were joined by the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, the blonde lady, and Hagrid who was holding a crossbow and escorting Sara and Jen. She ducked out of the professor’s grasp and ran into Jen’s waiting arms. Jen swung her around in a tight hug, and she leaned back so she could speak. “You’ll never guess what happened!” She cut in just as Sara was starting to chastise her. “I was right here in the woods with the thestral herd. Thestrals are, um, big black winged horses, like a Pegasus.” She held her arms out like wings before gripping Jen’s shoulders again. “And then, a werewolf came into the meadow! Its limbs were all long and creepy, and it had giant teeth.” She mimicked with her hands up by her face. “All the thestrals were freaking out and flying away, except the baby couldn’t fly! So, I scooped her up and rode on her mom’s back all the way to a valley deep in the forest. It was amazing! In the middle of the night, the dementors came and tried to attack us! But, they protected me and made them go away. Then this morning as I was making my way back, a centaur herd came. I hid because they don’t like people, and they jumped right over my hiding place! Their galloping was so loud, I thought I would go deaf! And there was this HUGE spider!”

“Lyra!” Sara finally cut in. “What on earth were you thinking running right into the middle of the most dangerous situation! I was explicitly told that this forest was forbidden!” She glanced over at Sara with wide eyes; she had been upset with Lyra before, but never like this. Her lower lip trembled; Sara never yelled at her. Jen set her down on the ground, and Lyra noticed the tears and relief in their eyes. “We thought we lost you, kid.” Jen murmured, and Lyra hung her head, swiping quickly at her eyes. “Why’d you run?”

“They were gonna send me away. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were talking to that blonde lady, and they were gonna send me away. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear. But they caught me, so I ran. I’m sorry.” She leaned in as they both enveloped her in a hug. “Am I going to be expelled?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading; hope you like it! I'll do my best to get the next chapter out pretty soon.


	11. A Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for child abuse

The hospital ward was dim, the lanterns not yet lit as the weak, pink-tinged rays of sunset filtered through the high windows. She picked at her remaining supper, glancing over at the tense bundle of adults gathered in the corner of the room. Each of them would look over at her occasionally, with the exception of the Headmaster, his back to her. Sara and Jen were very upset, made obvious by their posture and the fire in Sara’s eyes. Narcissa Malfoy stared at her near constantly, her icy blue eyes unreadable. She had no idea why Draco’s mother was involved in all of this. She had no idea what was going on at all, really. She had quickly given up trying to listen in, as every time she did a low buzzing filled her ears.

Her muscles pulled tight and sore as she put on her sweater. It had not taken Madame Pomfrey much time to patch her up, gently healing her cuts and abrasions. However, her adventure had taken more of a toll on her than she realized, and fatigue was overwhelming her. Her tray disappeared, and she was tucked under her blanket with a quiet pop. She smiled slightly, thinking of Mimsy as her heavy eyelids drooped.

She woke to a warm wetness between her legs, her heart pounding with realization. Mummy, Maryanne, would be mad at her. She sniffled and tried to hold back her tears but could not stop them as they rolled over her cheeks. Lyra cried quietly as she slipped over the edge of the bed. She rubbed her nose and gathered up her bedding.

“Did you wet the bed again, Lyra?” Lily’s soft voice broke the silence of their dark bedroom. She stuck her thumb in her mouth and nodded, looking down at her bare feet in shame. Lily pulled her close, soothingly running a hand through her hair. “It’s okay. I’ll help you clean it up, alright?” Lyra nodded up at her, smiling shyly around her thumb.

Quietly, they made their way to the kitchen. Lily hauled her up onto the countertop and placed the soiled bedding in the sink. She turned the sink on to just a trickle, letting the cloth muffle the noise. “Shhh,” she whispered, holding her finger up to her lips. Lyra grinned and mimicked her. They used dish soap, scrubbing at the yellow stain together. She glanced up at Lily, her favorite person in the world, her sister. She smiled back, her freckled face marred by a split lip, her curly hair tangled but shiny.

She yelped suddenly as a hot hand yanked at her arm, pulling her off the countertop. She landed on the floor with a thump; she didn’t know which hurt worse, her arm or her head. Her ears were ringing, and she started crying again as a loud smack rang out. Maryanne was yelling so loudly, but Lily was just staring back angrily with a reddened cheek and blood oozing from her nose.

Mum grabbed her arm once more and hauled her away, her little legs stumbling and struggling to keep up. She fell to her knees in the bathroom and began taking off her nightdress as her foster mother had demanded. “You wet the bed again, and you’ll go without, ungrateful girl.” She placed her in the bath, and Lyra shivered violently in the freezing water, her teeth chattering. The sponge scratched her skin as her foster mum roughly bathed her. She was muttering under her breath. She grew angrier and angrier, calling her a baby and telling her to stop crying. But Lyra couldn’t stop the tears from coming. Maryanne dunked her head underwater, rinsing her hair. She started to panic and scratch at the hand on her chest. Mummy wasn’t letting her up. She screamed and thrashed, looking up at Maryanne’s face, distorted through the water. The bathroom went dark and glass rained down as the lights exploded.

Finally, she was able to get her head above water. She gasped for air and grasped weakly at the edges of the tub. She saw the hall light come on out of the corner of her eye, and Lily came running into the room. Maryanne was gone. Lyra grasped onto Lily’s thin arms as she pulled her from the tub and gathered her gently in her lap. She coughed and gasped, struggling to understand what happened, as Lily tucked her head under her chin, fingers running through her drenched hair.

Lyra woke with a gasp and brought her hand to her chest. She took deep breaths and tried to slow her heart rate as she calmly reoriented herself. Max was curled at her feet, his yellow eyes glancing up at her. Her right hand was warm in the grip of another’s. The blonde head of Narcissa Malfoy was becoming more and more familiar to her. The woman sat in a chair near her bed, hunched over with her head resting on the mattress, Lyra’s hand in both of hers. She stared at the woman’s sleeping face as she carefully removed her hand. Her hair, somehow, was still perfectly coifed. Her skin was pale and soft-looking; her dark brows arched over her closed eyes, dark eyelashes resting gently against her cheeks. Her lips were thin and rosy, her mouth slightly open, jaw relaxed in sleep.

Lyra was confused, so confused, and she hated feeling that way. She was too tired to try to figure out what this woman might want with her, why she had been clutching her hand in a bedside vigil. She picked up Max and quietly padded out of the dark room, intent on returning to her dormitory. It would all become clear in time, she was sure. She sighed and gently placed Max on the ground. Blearily she rubbed at her eyes and quietly changed into her pajamas.

She hadn’t thought about her third foster home in a while. She never quite knew how she should feel about her experience there. It was where she met Lily, but it was also where she was almost drowned. Lily had been there for months before Lyra arrived, putting up with their mistreatment. It wasn’t until after that incident that they were finally removed from the home. Lily was placed with a new family, and Lyra was hospitalized with pneumonia. That’s when Sara became her caseworker and they first met.

She pulled the photo from her nightstand; it was the only picture she had of her and her sister. She was eight and missing her front teeth; Lily would’ve been almost fourteen. Sara had taken it on they day they were reunited, almost three years after the incident. She ran her fingers over the glass. Lily’s green eyes were bright, her face lit up by her smile. They were quite the contrast—Lyra’s skin looking even paler next to Lily’s tan, freckled face, her hair blacker when mixed with Lily’s golden-brown. Her eyes welled with tears, and she rubbed at them, frustrated. Every time something good happened in her life, something terrible happened to balance it out. She gently tucked the picture away in her nightstand and laid restlessly back in bed. Things seemed to be going well enough at Hogwarts; she wondered if the other shoe was dropping, and she would no longer be allowed here.

She was showered and dressed, her trunk packed, and out the door before her dormmates woke that morning. She ventured back to the hidden room and put as many advanced magic textbooks in her newly enchanted rucksack as she could. She took in the sprawling room, thinking of the possibilities and lingering too long, then made her way to the Great Hall. She called upon Mimsy, ignoring the murmurs as she hugged the elf and thanked her for her kindness. She ate her breakfast calmly, finishing just as Professor Snape swept into the room. She stood to meet him and straightened her clothes.

They walked silently together as Snape led her to the Headmaster’s office. She had a sense of déjà vu as she entered the circular room once again. The Headmaster was seated behind his ornate wooden desk at the head of a circle; Professor McGonagall, Sara, Jen, and Narcissa were seated around him. Snape made his way to a chair on Dumbledore’s left, and Lyra sat in the remaining one between Sara and Jen.

“You are not being expelled, Lyra.” The Headmaster began, answering her unspoken question. She wondered suddenly if some magical people were able to read minds; she broke eye contact and tried to close her off her thoughts just in case. “Now while you were unexpectedly on the seventh floor that night, you were not in a forbidden corridor, nor were you out of bed past curfew. You did, however, enter the Forbidden Forest which, as you know, is not allowed.”

“Unless you’re in detention,” Lyra interrupted petulantly. Sara looked at her with a raised brow, and she blushed, looking down at her hands. Narcissa cleared her throat, and Dumbledore continued. “As this is a special circumstance, you will not be expelled, but you will have to serve two weeks of detention with Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.” Lyra sighed in relief. “Now, your—”

Sara cleared her throat and interrupted Dumbledore. “There have been a few revelations in these last couple of days Lyra.” Sara turned her chair towards her, and Jen scooted closer to them, placing her hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “There’s really no easy way to break the news. Mrs. Malfoy is your birth mother. She has your magical birth certificate, and Professor McGonagall will be able to confirm her claim with an enchanted parchment. From what I understand, all that is needed is a drop of blood.” Lyra sat in shock, unable to process. She turned her head as Jen spoke, “Of course, as we’ve discussed with those here, her parental rights were forfeited when you were found and placed in the system.” She paused and shared a look with Sara over her head. “Either way, Mrs. Malfoy wants to adopt you.”

Lyra was numb. The adults were speaking to her still, but she felt too far away to hear them. McGonagall pricked her finger and let her blood drip onto the parchment. The professor pushed it into her hands, but she couldn’t read it, couldn’t see it through the tunnel vision. She’d read it later. She’d deal with all of this later. Right now, she couldn’t handle it. Narcissa—her birth mother, her mother, the one person she craved her entire life, her mother who _abandoned_ her as a newborn—knelt in front of her. Her voice was soft and low, her fingertips warm as she hesitantly touched Lyra’s hand. Her thoughts were racing, and she couldn’t catch any of them. She wished she could hear what Narcissa was saying right now, but she couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. She needed to get out of here. She needed to be alone. She left in a daze, and they let her go.


	12. Processing

Low classical music echoed throughout the room. She didn’t know the composer, but it was somber and heavy on the strings. _Fitting the mood_. On the canopy above her, the stars twinkled peacefully, unconcerned with her angst. The soft click of heels broke the stillness, and Lyra tensed. Slowly, quietly, she pulled her wand from her rucksack. Mrs. Malfoy’s blonde head came into view, and she relaxed. She tensed again, frustrated and unsure of how to react to the woman’s presence. 

She stared up at the charmed canopy, ignoring the woman as the clicks slowly came closer. The bed shifted with a new weight, and Lyra watched from the corner of her eye as Narcissa lay down on the other side of the bed. Max moved from his post at the foot of the bed to smell at Narcissa’s feet before curling back up, his warm back against Lyra’s calf. 

“Is that your cat?” Narcissa’s voice was low and smooth, soft as it broke the silence. Lyra could feel the woman’s gaze on her face and nodded her head slightly. “He’s very handsome. What is his name?” The question hung in the air for a moment, before she answered with a whisper, “Maximus.” 

“That’s a fine name, Maximus.” Lyra was filled to the brim with questions, but she did not want to speak. “Did you enchant the canopy?” After her answering nod, she continued, “That’s amazing, Lyra. You’re a very talented young witch.” Lyra could feel the warmth in her cheeks and turned her head away, looking out towards the cluttered room. It felt as if they were separated from the world, in their own little bubble. 

“How did you find me?” Lyra asked, but she didn’t know if she meant in the hidden room way or in the long-lost family member way. The music slowly faded out, the record coming to a stop as the older witch gathered her words. “The other night, we were all on the seventh floor. There’s nothing much of interest in that particular corridor, unless you know where to look. I found the Room of Requirement when I was a student here at Hogwarts; though, I must admit, this version of the room has never presented itself to me before.” 

Lyra felt the warmth of Narcissa’s fingertips grazing her hand, and she turned her head towards the woman. They made eye contact briefly before Lyra dropped her gaze. “I know that this is all a big change and a lot to take in, but I want—. I need you to know that I have _always_ loved you and always wanted you. I…now is not the best...” She sighed. “One day, I will explain why I gave you away. I know…I’m sure you must have so many questions.”

Lyra pulled her hand away from the woman’s wandering fingertips and stared, unseeing, at the bed’s canopy. A big lump of emotions sat in her chest, and she tried to identify what she was feeling. Sadness. Anger. Bitterness. Confusion. Hope. She took a deep, steadying breath through her nose as Narcissa continued. 

“I am working with your social workers. There’s been quite a lot of paperwork, among other things. When the school year is over, you’ll come home. It’s a bit complicated, but you won’t be living with Draco and Lucius at the Manor. There’s a Black family townhome in London; that’s where you’ll be living. I will not be able to live with you there full time, but my sister, your Aunt Andromeda, will be there when I cannot be.” Now confusion won out, and Lyra could feel her brow scrunch as she tried to work out the situation. _Did they not want her there, or is Narcissa keeping this a secret?_ It was certainly odd—not that she minded _not_ having to live with Draco and his infamous father. _Oh. If Narcissa is my birth mother, that means Draco is my brother. Weird. And Lucius is my father._ ‘My father will hear about this.’ She rolled her eyes. 

“You’ll like Andy, and I hope you’ll like the house.” Lyra could almost hear the unspoken, “I hope you like me.” She sighed and reached down to stroke Max. “Ms. Young and Ms. Griffin will be leaving soon. I’m sure you’d like to say goodbye before they go.” Lyra sighed again as she sat up. She felt the blood rush in her ears and a headache start pounding behind her eyes as she let her legs dangle over the edge of the bed. 

Kneeling, she carefully put the record back into its worn sleeve and returned it to its place. She pulled her rucksack on and waited patiently as Max finished stretching before jumping lightly onto her shoulders. She grabbed her wand off the bed and turned towards where Narcissa was watching, waiting. She followed behind the older woman by half a step, looking down at the ground as they left the Room of Requirement. “Your wand is very beautiful; I’ve never seen anything quite like it. What kind of wood is it, do you know?” 

“Diamond willow.” Lyra replied quietly. The walk was short; Narcissa stopped outside a painting of rolling green hills. Lyra looked to the side and noticed the suit of armor she had hidden behind what felt like ages ago. When she looked back, the portrait had opened into a warmly lit room, and Mrs. Malfoy had already disappeared inside. 

Cautiously, Lyra made her way into the newly discovered room. It was warm from a crackling fire and well lit. The design seemed heavily influenced by tartan and deep brown leather. Professor McGonagall was speaking quietly to Narcissa near a tall wingback chair; Sara and Jen waited on a large leather couch. They stood, and Sara gave her a quick hug and kiss on the forehead before making her way over to the other two women. Max leapt off her shoulders with a protesting meow as Jen picked her up and spun her around. “Little Lyra’s finally getting adopted!” She exclaimed, making Lyra grin. “We’ve been waiting for this day for so long, haven’t we?” At Lyra’s happy nod, she continued, spinning her around again. “I’m so happy for you, kiddo.” 

Professor McGonagall and Jen tried to keep the conversation going, but it was futile. Supper was awkward. Lyra barely spoke. Sara was upset about something. Narcissa kept opening her mouth to start a sentence but never finished it. And now, they were all awkwardly standing in front of Professor McGonagall’s fireplace. Jen and Sara wrapped her up in a group hug. Sara whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, Lyra. I’m doing everything in my power and then some to make sure this will be a safe home for you.” Jen nodded seriously in agreement. With a final goodbye, they disappeared in a verdant blaze.

Narcissa hovered nearby, seemingly unsure what to do with herself. Lyra rocked forward and back on her toes and waved silently. The older witch smiled slightly and entered the fireplace with a quiet, “I’ll write you.” And, then, she too was gone. Professor McGonagall placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Lyra turned. “You’ll start detention with me tomorrow evening. Go to the Transfiguration classroom after supper, and I will meet you there. Now, I trust you’ll be able to find your way back to your dormitory without too many detours?” She nodded, gathered her things, and quickly left Professor McGonagall’s rooms, Max trotting behind her. 

There was still time before curfew, so she rushed down to the library. Thinking hard back to her first days at Hogwarts, she again found the book on wizarding families. She plopped down at the nearest table and rummaged through her rucksack. With the blood-stained parchment in hand, she opened the tome to the Black family. Carefully, she unfolded the piece of parchment and traced the red ink back from her name to Narcissa Malfoy, then further to Narcissa’s parents, her grandparents. 

The family tree on the parchment was set up differently, but they matched. She looked at the book with new eyes. Aurelia Malfoy d. 1982. That must be her. She was a little biased, but she thought Lyra Black suited her better. Narcissa must have reported that she was dead before leaving her to the Muggle world. In her photo, Narcissa looked the same but happier, her eyes younger. She was beautiful. Lyra was angry. This woman, her mother, faked her death, abandoned her, then had the nerve to say that she had always loved and wanted her. Her logical side tried to butt in, saying that there was likely a reason to go to all this trouble. But Lyra didn’t care right now; she wanted to be mad. She was allowed to feel angry. 

Taking a few deep breaths, she counted to ten. She looked to Narcissa’s sisters next, her aunts. She noticed again how similar they looked and how different from Narcissa. Andy had been disowned, but it seemed that Narcissa must still keep in touch with her. Quickly doing some math, she reasoned that Narcissa had given birth to her when she was twenty-two, which would make her thirty-three or thirty-four now. Andy would be about forty and Nymphadora about twenty-one. _If Andy was disowned after graduating Hogwarts, then Narcissa must have been, what, ten years old?_

She sighed and put her things away. She had a lot to think about. Almost she had made it back to the sanctuary of her bed, but Scarlett had seen her in the common room and quickly followed her into the dormitory. “Lyra, where have you been? You’ve missed two days of classes. Are you alright?” 

Scarlett’s deep blue eyes were concerned as she looked intently at Lyra, sweeping a lock of dark red curls behind her ear. Lyra glanced around the dormitory and noticed Astoria and Emmeline staring over at them from Astoria’s bed. She pulled Scarlett onto the other girl’s bed and closed the curtains tightly. 

“Everything is okay, I guess.” She hesitated, “I’m being adopted. It was all rather sudden and shocking, but things are being worked out now.” Scarlett gasped, “Oh, Lyra, congratulations! We’re happy about this, right?” Lyra paused for a moment, then nodded her head slightly. She smiled as Scarlett grabbed her in an enthusiastic hug. “Are you being adopted by a muggle family or a wizarding family?”

“It’s a wizarding family, well, a witch.” Scarlett was about to interrupt, but Lyra continued, “I think it’s supposed to be a secret, who it is. I mean, it seems that way.” Scarlett nodded, accepting that answer with no more than a skeptical look. For the better part of an hour they sat together talking about everything and nothing before finally deciding to call it a night. 

Lyra felt surprisingly well rested when she woke the next morning and ready to go back to her classes. The first time she had seen dozens of owls flying, not only during daylight, but also into the Great Hall, Lyra had been shocked and amazed. But with most things, it was easy to get used to. Today, however, was unusual due to the stunning barn owl landing neatly in front of her breakfast and presenting its leg. Cautiously, she untied the knot, allowing the letter and a small pack of sweets to fall off the owl’s leg. The bird took off shortly after nipping some of her eggs, not waiting for a reply.

The piece of parchment was folded several times; in small, neat handwriting the front read: the first words you said to me. Lyra sat confused for a moment before remembering that Narcissa said she would write. When opened, the parchment was blank. Furrowing her brow, she folded it up and thought back through their interactions. With a whispered “Maximus,” she opened the parchment once more to find the page full of neat cursive.

Dearest Lyra,  


> I hope this letter finds you well and that you had a good night’s rest. You will never know how much joy you bring me just by allowing me in your life. I am so proud of you, Lyra. I have heard from your professors how you exceed expectations in every class, and I hope you are enjoying your time at Hogwarts. I must ask your forgiveness in that our relationship must remain a secret. It is imperative, Lyra, for both your safety and for mine. I am so excited for you to come home. The owl is Cassiopeia, and she comes bearing sweets. She is yours. I would love to hear from you, if you feel like writing.

  
All my love,  
Narcissa  


Outside of her classes, the letter was on her mind all day. About a minute after reading it, it had turned to ash. All of the spellwork involved with the parchment was interesting, but it also got ash in her food, which she wasn’t too happy about. Just over five weeks remained until her first year at Hogwarts would be over, and instead of hiding in the castle or living at the group home, she would be living with Narcissa Malfoy. The past months in Scotland had truly been a whirlwind. Lyra honestly felt like she just got here, and soon she would be taking her end-of-year exams. And, _gosh_ , she really needed to start studying. She yawned deeply, already bored with polishing trophies and candelabras. _It’s going to be a long two weeks_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for reading, subscribing, and leaving kudos. A special thank you to KaylinOfArgon for commenting!


	13. Forward

With another promise to write, Lyra waved goodbye to Scarlett as the red-haired girl moved through the bustling crowd to meet a wizened old house elf. In a blink they disappeared from the station together. The cacophony of children and parents, trolleys and pets was overwhelming as Lyra carefully picked her way through the crowd, Max’s claws digging into her shoulders each time she was bumped. Breaking out of the fray, she made it to an old bench and cleared away the discarded, yellowing newspaper.

She swung her legs as she sat, scuffing her shoes along the cobblestones. Twisting her ankle, she stuck her toe through the ever-growing hole in the rubber sole of her trainers. She sighed and shifted her weight, gently unsticking her thighs from the bench. She had gotten used to her school uniform and being in her muggle clothes again felt odd. Knowing that she would have to wait, she dedicated herself to people-watching. Lyra thought she caught a glimpse of blond Malfoy heads through a boisterous gaggle of gingers, but they disappeared so quickly she couldn’t be sure. In fact, all the wizards were disappearing quickly. Between the bright green flashes of the hearths and the loud pops of disapparation, the station emptied surprisingly fast.

There were just a few stragglers left, Lyra included, when a small pop just to her right announced Mimsy’s arrival. The kindly elf lead her to the muggle side of the station, her bat-like ears flapping as she nodded her head, acknowledging Lyra’s ‘thank you.’ As quickly as she appeared, the house elf was once again gone, and the young witch was left in a sea of muggles, searching for her social worker. She dragged her trunk behind her, sighing in relief as she quickly located Sara. 

Sara beamed when she saw her, her warm brown eyes lighting up. After a brief embrace, she led the way out of King’s Cross station. They chatted quietly, Sara filling Lyra in on the goings-on at the group home and Lyra informing Sara about her last few weeks at Hogwarts—detention, testing, and the capture and escape of Sirius Black. She quickly finished telling her about the DADA professor being a werewolf before they climbed inside a taxi. Sara rattled off the address before turning to Lyra and speaking lowly. “Do you think this professor was the werewolf who attacked you?” 

“Well, he didn’t _really_ attack me,” Lyra answered. “But, I think so. Professor Snape had me take a potion to him earlier in the year, and I’m guessing that it was wolfsbane potion. The wolfsbane potion is supposed to allow werewolves the ability to retain their human mind during the full moon. I can’t imagine him acting like he did if he was in his right mind…I wonder why he wasn’t taking his potion.” 

“Seems highly irresponsible to me, an out of control werewolf in a school full of children. I suppose that’s why he was sacked though, hmm?” Sara tutted. Lyra nodded in response, turning to look at the neighborhood outside the window. She grew quiet and felt suddenly nervous. She would be seeing Narcissa soon. She noticed, too, that they had passed Hyde Park and were making their way into Kensington. This was by far the poshest place she had ever been in, and as the taxi parked outside an expensive townhome, Lyra felt a wave of self-consciousness. She didn’t belong here. Sara placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and sent her an encouraging smile. Lyra tried to smile back before exiting the taxi and collecting her trunk, Max already darting into the front garden. 

She leaned against her trunk as she took in her new home. The street was lined with trees shading the neighborhood nicely. Each home had a thick white retaining wall lining the sidewalk with a wrought iron gate leading to the front path. The building itself was white stucco and three stories, possibly with an attic, considering the dormers. Bay windows jutted out from its face on the ground floor and the first floor, a balcony on the second. She was startled from her inspection as the dark front door was opened, and a woman called her name in greeting.

Lyra waved shyly as the woman approached. It wasn’t Narcissa, so it must be Andromeda. The woman was tall and slender in posh muggle clothing. Her soft brown eyes were heavily-lidded and her brown mane of hair fell in wild curls. She opened the gate for them and waved the taxi driver off. 

“It’s so lovely to meet you both.” She began, shaking Sara’s hand and smiling at Lyra hiding behind her. “I’m your Aunt Andromeda, but please, call me Andy. I can see your little cat has already made himself at home,” she said smirking as Lyra huffed, watching Max’s fuzzy behind disappearing into the house. “Cissy desperately wanted to be here to welcome you home,” she continued, leading them into the home. “I just got off a floo call with her. She’s very upset, but, unfortunately, she cannot make it. She’ll be here later tonight, I expect.” The door shut quietly behind them, and Sara and Andy made their way further into the home.

Lyra lingered near the door, taking everything in. Ornate crown moulding lined the ceiling, and ceiling medallions surrounded the bases of the light fixtures. The flooring was dark wood, but the stairs just in front of her were covered in thick, cream-colored carpet. Tentatively, she made her way inside.

The dark wooden floor continued in the sitting room. The bay window let in plenty of natural light. The sofa was soft-looking, and emerald green wingback chairs on either side brought color into the otherwise neutral room. A coffee table and thick rug was at the center of the seating and in front of an enormous fireplace. Further into the home she could see Sara and Andy in the kitchen with tea, and beyond them a dining area looking out towards the back garden.

She turned back towards the front door and felt her heart jump as she noticed her trunk missing. Trying not to panic, she reasoned that it must be a house elf’s doing. Hoping to find it again, possibly in her bedroom, she made her way up the stairs. Two closed doors greeted her at the first landing; she looked hesitantly up the stairs towards the next floor, then decided to open the door just in front of her.

Lyra gasped, taking in the most wonderful library she had seen outside of Hogwarts. Bookshelves extended from floor to ceiling, only broken up by the door she just came through and the two large windows overlooking the back garden. Two deep, lush brown leather chairs and a matching tufted sofa were situated in front of a fireplace on the inside wall. She smiled happily, hoping that she would be allowed to use this wonderful room. Carefully shutting the door behind her, she cautiously entered the other room.

This was her room; she could almost feel it welcoming her. The walls were painted a soft but deep blue-green. It would almost be too dark, with the dark hardwood floors and matching furniture, but the space was brightened by the natural light coming through the bay windows and the creamy bedding and large rug. She gasped at the moving mural on the wall opposite the bed. The ethereal-looking thestral emitted a soft, blue glow, its mane and tale flowing. It looked like an illustration of a patronus she had seen in a book.

The wall to her left housed a fireplace. _Matching the one in the library_ , she thought quickly. The window seat overlooked the front garden with a wardrobe to left and a bookcase to the right. Opposite the door to her room was another door, opened and leading into the bathroom. She felt around on the wall for a switch, one seeming to appear beneath her hand.

In contrast to the bedroom, the bathroom was very light. White tile lined the floor, walls, and the shower, clearly seen through the glass door. The sink and toilet were white as well, with an oval mirror hanging above the vanity cabinet which was painted the same green-blue as the bedroom walls. Lyra was hesitant to touch anything in this room. Instead, she flipped the switch off and went to place her rucksack with her trunk, neatly situated on the bench at the foot of the bed. Looking up to the ceiling, she gasped again and braced herself against the bedpost. The entire ceiling was glittering with stars. It was amazing, more stunning, even, than the ceiling of the Great Hall.

A quiet “mrrp” preceded Max as he leapt onto the bed, and Lyra startled at the knock on the door. “We had wondered what your room would look like. It’s lovely.” Andy said, waiting with Sara at the entrance to the room. Lyra tilted her head and furrowed her brows, but Sara saved her the trouble by asking. “What do you mean by that, Mrs. Tonks?”

“This house has been in the Black family for generations. It’s a wizarding home, imbued with magic. It can be expanded as needed, and the bedrooms are magically personalized. That’s not to mention all the warding.” Andy explained with an easy smile. “I’ll leave you to your goodbyes.”

Lyra ran into Sara’s waiting arms as soon as Andy was out of earshot. She gripped onto Sara tightly, trying to soak up as much comfort as she could before she was left to an unfamiliar home and people. “I know this all seems beyond coincidence, but as far as I can tell, Lyra, they seem like good people. If _ever_ you feel unsafe, call me, find me, get to me anyway you can. Trust your instincts and don’t hesitate.” Lyra nodded into Sara’s neck. “House check’s all done. Your room is lovely,” she sighed. “One week. I’ll be back in one week.” 

Lyra sighed and waved goodbye as Sara disappeared, the sitting room flashing green momentarily. She rocked back and forth on her feet, unsure what to do. “Supper will be soon. You’re free to do as you please until then. The house is yours to explore, though I will say, the house elves live in the attic. And it would be best to knock first.” Andy said with a smile. “In the library, you’ll find many interesting books, including most of the year two and three textbooks.” Andy leaned in closer to her and smirked. “The trace is in effect until you are of age, to be sure; however, in a wizarding household, the ministry cannot differentiate between underage and adult magic.” She leaned back once more, “but you didn’t hear that from me.” She turned with a wink and headed towards a door Lyra hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll be in the potions lab, in the basement.” 

When she was sure Andy was gone, Lyra set about exploring the rest of the house. The kitchen was large and L-shaped with an informal dining table overlooking the back garden. The garden was surprisingly large and very green with a tall wooden fence and small patio. Quietly, she made her way back to the library. Running her fingers along the leather- and cloth-bound spines, she wandered around the room. Near the fireplace she found the books that Andy mentioned. She grabbed a few, then slipped them onto the bookshelf in the bedroom. 

She looked up the staircase, debating whether or not she should go up there. After a moment’s hesitation, she climbed the stairs. Another two doors greeted her at the second landing. Opening the door at the top of the stairs, she cautiously entered another bedroom. It was large and bright with pale green walls and gauzy white curtains. The walls were covered in a pattern of vines and blooming flowers. The bedding was cream-colored and soft looking with a taupe colored bench at the foot of the bed and matching chairs near the doors to the balcony. 

She tiptoed her way through the open door into the closet. It was full of dresses and wizarding robes, all in cool colors and expensive-looking. She wanted to reach out and touch the silky fabric but held herself back and made her way into the bathroom. It was exceptionally large and ornate. The bath was like a small pool with about a million taps. On the counter of the vanity were several glass potions or cosmetics bottles. She touched them gently, the clink resounding in the room. Removing one of the caps, she spritzed the perfume in the air and recognized Narcissa’s soft, flowery scent.

“Lyra! Supper’s ready!” She startled at Andy’s call and hastily replaced the bottle. She rushed down the stairs, stopping in the bedroom to grab her oversized flannel, finally skidding to a halt in the kitchen. She did not want to upset Andy by making her wait, and she was very hungry after a long day of traveling. The table was set for four, Andy and two house elves already seated. Lyra took the remaining seat, across from the witch and next to one of the elves. Supper smelled amazing, spaghetti, warm bread, and roast vegetables. Andy was already eating, and Lyra reached to serve herself but stopped as food appeared on her plate. “Lyra, this is—” 

Andy was interrupted by the elf sitting to Lyra’s left. “Andromeda Black, I know you are not speaking with your mouth full.” Lyra looked with wide eyes between the two, unsure of how to react. Andy swallowed her mouthful, then continued. “Of course not, Nanny. Lyra, this is Nanny and Olson. Their family has been with our family for a long time.”

“Six generations!” Nanny interjected.

“And Nanny, here, took care of me and my sisters when we were children.” With a sly smile, Andy added in a mock whisper, “she thinks we still _are_ children.” Lyra smiled and laughed quietly, holding hand out to Olson. Olson shook her hand, his big green eyes bright and large ears flopping as he nodded. When Lyra turned to Nanny, the elf was stood up in her chair. Nanny ignored her outstretched hand and instead pulled Lyra’s head to her chest in an approximation of a hug. “Nanny is so happy Cissa’s little girl has returned. It seems like just yesterday that Nanny held you. The little miss was quiet then, too, not even a peep of a cry.”

Lyra gripped the table with one hand and patted Nanny on the back with the other. Uncomfortable with such a display, she could feel the wide-eyed, stunned look on her face. Luckily Andy took pity on her and pulled Nanny into a conversation. She recovered quickly, her growling stomach urging her to eat. She scarfed down her spaghetti, picking at the roast vegetables every time Nanny paused the conversation to remind her. When the rest of her dinner companions seemed suitably distracted, Lyra would sneak a bit of bread into the pocket of her flannel, not noticing Andy’s keen gaze. 

When supper was over, Lyra returned to the bedroom. Max was stretched out on the bed, and Lyra scratched his belly before pulling some of the second-year textbooks off the bookshelf. She looked around for a moment then smiled when a lamp appeared out of nowhere, light already on. She hadn’t been studying for very long before Andy knocked on the door and poked her head in. “I’m heading home for the night, Lyra. Cissy shouldn’t be too much longer, okay?” Once Lyra nodded, she continued, “If you need anything, just call on Nanny or Olson. Good night.” Lyra replied quietly before Andy shut the door, and she was alone again. 

Andy was right. It wasn’t too much longer before another knock sounded on her door, interrupting Lyra’s jaw-cracking yawn. “It’s Narcissa; may I come in?” Lyra nodded, then raised her voice and said, “yes.” She could hear the soft clicks of Narcissa’s heels come closer, and she glanced over as the woman sat on the floor next to her, back against the bed. “It’s awfully late. I thought you might already be asleep.” Lyra shook her head, fidgeting with the book in her lap and rolling her wand between her fingers. She didn’t mention that she never slept well if at all the first night in a new house. “Your room is very beautiful.” There was a beat of silence after Lyra’s mumbled thanks before Narcissa spoke again. 

“Already reading ahead for next term, I see,” she said. Lyra thought she could hear a hint of pride in the woman’s voice but dismissed it. “What are you working on?” She glanced over at Narcissa nervously and pointed her wand at her Charms textbook. She gripped her wand tightly, picturing what she wanted to happen in her mind. With a quiet “ _Avifors_ ” a bright blue light shot from her wand. She huffed at the results. A small bird of brown leather sat where her book once was, pages showing beneath its flapping wings. 

“Max!” Lyra yelled as he pounced on the bird out of nowhere. Narcissa laughed as Lyra quickly scooped the little bird into her hands, pushing Max away. She returned the botched transfiguration back to its original state as Narcissa said, “You did very well, Lyra. That’s a complex bit of transfiguration for a witch so young. I’m sure you’ll master it soon.” 

“Why don’t you change into your pajamas and come upstairs to my bedroom? I can braid your hair for bed, hmm?” Lyra nodded her head and tried not to tense as Narcissa leaned over and kissed her temple, enveloping her momentarily in that light, floral scent. When the door closed behind the older witch, Lyra quickly changed clothes and brushed her teeth. The door to Narcissa’s room was cracked open, light spilling out onto the landing. She tapped lightly on the door then pushed it open further after she heard a muffled, “come in, sweetheart.” 

A moment later, Narcissa exited the closet in a long, silky, pale pink night dress and matching robe. Lyra tugged at her too big t-shirt and thin cotton shorts as the older woman led her into the bathroom and onto the vanity bench. She blushed as Narcissa returned the cap to her perfume bottle before pulling a silver-handled hair brush from a drawer. 

She was dozing, her head drooping occasionally as the rhythmic, gentle pull of the brush and then Narcissa’s fingers soothed her. Narcissa kissed the crown of her head when she was finished, lingering a moment, before gently shaking Lyra’s shoulders and leading her back downstairs. Lyra blearily climbed into the already warm bed as Cissa situated the blankets up around her shoulders. She nuzzled into Max’s warm, purring back, asleep before the door clicked shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Thank you all for reading. You can come yell at me on tumblr if you like, at cameronpost13


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